Rings and True Immortality
by The Morrigu
Summary: The Quest to destroy the One Ring has begun. Strangers from the lands to the North, the true Immortals have decided to join this Quest. Strangers whose past is that of Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Hey everyone. This is a plot bunny of mine, as I have always desired to do a HP/LOTR crossover, and this is it. I hope you all understand it well enough. / If anyone has any questions, they shall all be answered within reviews. This story shall be updated at some point, but I have a collection of one-shots or stories which I desire to put on here, which are all plot bunnies which are interfering with my other stories. I thought that I should get round to typing them up, and here is the first one.

**Summary: **The World was destroyed. All that remained of it is a scattered group of wizarding refugees, whose leader is one Harry Potter. They sought refuge in the lands of Middle-Earth, and for thousands of years, they grew in number, becoming a race far greater than anything else. But darkness is upon them. Darkness that Sauron pales in comparison.

* * *

**Rings and True Immortality**

**Chapter I: Prologue**

**By The Morrigu**

* * *

"Mother, mother!" cried the child, as he jumped into his bed, wrapping the blankets around his form. The fire roared in the heath of the room, heating the meagre room, preventing the cold winter from getting through the walls. A woman entered, she was rather plain looking, with lines around her eyes, as well as dirt in her hair. Her skin held a worn look about it, of a woman more used to doing practical things rather than anything else. She offered her son a slight smile, and sat on the edge of his bed, giving him a fond look.

"So what story does Master wish for tonight?" questioned the mother.

"The Riders!" said the boy energetically, and the woman chuckled at him.

"The Riders you say? Surely you do not mean the Riders of our own Rohan?"

The boy looked perplexed for a moment, before his face turned into one of exasperation.

"No!" he said slowly. "The Riders from the North."

The mother rolled her eyes, before tucking the child into bed, and sitting down at his side.

"The riders have existed for as long as anyone can recall, be they man, elf or dwarf. It is said that they come down from the North, a great legion of them, armed with weapons of the sharpest metals, and clothed in furs the ward the cold away. Their steeds are said to match our very own, but in the twilight hours, it is as though the very forces of nature are at their beck and call, as they ride through all forces our world can throw at them."

She took a breath, pausing to debate on what to say next.

"It is said that the riders are in search of something, but what no one knows. No one knows much about these individuals, except that every three months, a legion of them ride down from the North. They even get as far down as Minas Tirith, before turning back. Some like to believe that there is but a legion of them, riders who go from one place to the next, never stopping for long. Others, like myself, believe that beyond the cold wastes, exists a kingdom whose greatness far surpasses that of any kingdom on Middle-Earth."

"Why mother?" murmured the boy.

"Why you ask? Because like the wizards we hear being murmured about, these riders can use magic. Magic in such ways that it is rumoured the wizards cannot dare to compare to. Their magic would allow them the ability to have such a kingdom, of that I am certain."

* * *

Miles away, not even aware that they were being spoken of; a legion rode across the ice wastes of Forodwaith. The horses galloped unimpeded even by the harsh environment, as they were laden down with weapons and their riders, who were so bundled up in heavy furs, not even their eyes could be seen. The sun had set, and the darkness had settled around them. By the light of the moon, the ice lit their path with a silver glow, and it was with this that the riders travelled. For hours they rode, never slowing down. The steeds never faltered in their steps, as fatigue never once began to faze them. Eventually, the icy wastes began to filter out, and the land became populated with trees and the likes. They continued to ride on their steeds, until coming to a stop at the top of a hill.

"We rest here." Called the leader, and the riders dismounted, resting on the ground after days of endless riding. They were in friendly territory now, so rest was allowed.

"Captain." Called one of the riders, walking up to them man. "I spotted some riders coming from the south. We moved past them, but I could sense them. They are heading for Dux Ducis."

The captain raised an eyebrow, having pulled his furs from his head, revealing long brown hair, with bright blue eyes. His skin was lightly tanned and unblemished save for a single scar which ran through his eyebrow.

"That is strange. Few come up here, and those that do, do not know the country so well." Murmured the Captain.

"It seems as though they began their journey from Mirkwood. I spotted them not long after we passed the Misty Mountains. The Elves know of these lands, and would not direct any ill will to our elders."

"No, I imagine not." Replied the Captain. "Keep your sharp eyes on them my friend. We are due at Bellum to give our report tomorrow eve."

"Yes, sir."

The two parted ways, the company of elves on their minds. Not very many leagues away, the company of the elves, which were but five riders, were riding throughout the night. They had passed the border, the Border between Forodwaith and Aurum, which was the land that the icy wastes could not overcome. In the distance, the land gave way to greenery, to the east the land became mountainous, the tops of it covered in snow. To the very west, was the coast line, which curved around. Only eyes as sharp of the elves, could spot the towns which existed on the coast, or within the mountain range itself. But even those gifted which such eyesight could not see the wonder that was the land of Aurum, until they continued further, coming across the capital city itself. The city of Dux Ducis, which lay to the North of their current position.

The elves continued their journey. Going through forests as old as Fangorn itself, and travelling across plains which were plentiful of wildlife. Various villages passed them by, and at first light, they could see the children rushing around the villages, helping their parents in their morning tasks out in the fields. At their approach, they all stopped, and watched them pass in silence. It was within one of these villages that the group stopped to rest. The villagers appeared to be wary of them, which was natural considering that riders from the south were extremely uncommon.

"What business brings you here, Master Elf?" asked a man, who appeared to be a blacksmith, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Our Lord has business with the Lord of these Lands." Stated one of the Elves, his brown hair cascading down his back.

"The Lord Elrond?" asked the blacksmith.

The elf nodded his head, and the blacksmith smiled.

"That is good news then. You have happened upon our lands at a rather opportune moment – as the High Lord has awoken."

"Awoken?" murmured the elf in confusion. "We do not understand."

The blacksmith offered him an understanding smile, before speaking.

"You will most likely understand when you reach Dux Ducis."

The elf nodded his head in return, but still remained extremely confused.

* * *

_I guess I should first introduce myself, as I am the one writing all of this down. My name is Harry James Potter, and this is my account of what happened, so many years ago. At the age of seventeen, I had believed that I had experienced everything that could possibly be thrown at me. I had defeated my foe, survived a war, and so many attempts at my life. I had even died, only to survive in the end. Within our own world, everything began to come together, to work out fine. We didn't focus any of our thoughts towards the others of our kind, the muggles of the world. As the years passed, the unrest within their world became more and more apparent, until eventually the third war between their nations broke out. In one fell swoop, the lands that the muggles controlled were destroyed. _

_Myself__ and my comrades had enough sense to lock ourselves in the basement of the Ministry of Magic – where the war didn't touch us. My comrades consisted of what had once been the DA, as well as their families and any other who cared for their survival, and were not foolish enough to believe in their impunity. So, while wars raged beyond the walls, we refugees existed hidden away in the Ministry of Magic, with nothing between us and the outside world except a set of wards at the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. _

_That is where we hid, for almost a month, we lived within such a department, as it was the only place which could provide protection against what was going on in the outside world. As everyone destroyed one another, we remained strong. United. _

_But, alas, all good things come to an end. The destruction began to break through the barriers, and we were left with little choice of our actions. There is but one item within the Department of Mysteries which the Unspeakable's were afraid to experiment with too much. The Veil. The origins of such a thing are unknown, as is the true meaning of its existence. Where is leads, no one knew. All that could be said was that anyone who went through it didn't return. Thus, the theory that the veil lead to the world of the dead, and anyone who entered it died automatically. This theory when unquestioned, as there was nothing to question it with. _

_However, the day we were trapped in the Death Room, with no other way out, besides the Veil, we unknowingly decided that we would be the ones to test it. After all, what was worse? What kind of people would we be if we would rather die than face the unknown that existed beyond the veil? Thus we entered the veil – but we didn't account for something else. Me. The Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Defeated-Voldemort. The Master of Death. _

_I had always been strange. Unique, as my comrades would call me rather than using harsher words, whether they were meant to be insulting or not. I had such an odd experience at life, that it made the powers that were my birth right to act differently than other individuals powers. The Veil did lead to the world of the dead, the Unspeakable's had gotten that right. _

_However, I couldn't die. I had often pondered whether or not I could die, but I never dared to test it. The abilities gifted to me as the master of death, would most likely have made it unable to occur, until I was ready to. Add to that the horcrux problem, and the prophecy, and the outcome is vague at best. _

_But my abilities, my immortality, my immunity to death, and the unique behaviour of my magic is what saved us in the end. Stepping into the Land of the Dead, I immediately felt that I didn't belong here. I felt a similar sensation that one feels when Apparating, as though my body was about to be torn into a variety of different places. I realised that I was the only one with this feeling, the others were fine. _

_I felt myself fading away, and initially I thought that it was me who was dying, not the other way around. My magic responded to my distress, and rather than making me stay there, which was naturally impossible, as I was immortal, it did the opposite. It took my comrades, my comrades who had died the moment they stepped into the land of the dead. _

_We vanished from such a land, and appeared somewhere else. All of us alive, breathing. In one piece. We were safe, and the cooling sea breeze was never as welcome as it was then. Never. _

_We had no idea where we had turned up, except that it had a beach with waters which were of the palest blue. The feeling of being free would never be unappreciated ever again, of that I doubt. It was only later, as we sat around campfires, we began to theorise what had happened. _

_We wouldn't know for weeks, what precisely had happened. We would only know when Neville fell down into a gorge, his back was broken. He was on his feet in a matter of minutes, all traces of injury gone. It was then that we realised something, we were immortal. Whatever had happened to us, we had made it a permanent survival. _

* * *

"Harry, come on love, you must wake up!" murmured a soft, feminine voice into his ear.

Harry groaned to himself, rolling over and burying himself under the furs that made up his bed. He distantly registered a loud sigh, before he was roughly pulled from the bed. The nice warm bed.

"Harry, what would the people see if they could see their great Lord now?" murmured the woman, rolling her eyes at him, her brown eyes staring at him in annoyance. "Honestly!"

"Ginny." Said Harry, in an almost whine. "Can't you let a man sleep?"

"No, not on a day like this." Ginny sighed, running a hand through her lengthy red hair. Harry's childish expression suddenly turned serious, and he sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her thigh.

"You and the others haven't told me all that has happened over the past few hundred years, have you?" murmured Harry, frowning slightly.

"No." whispered Ginny, her eyes downcast. "We wanted you to be settled first. I mean, we made sure that at least seven of us would be awake at any given time, so that we could govern the lands."

Harry nodded his head mutely, causing her to continue.

"There has been whispering from the south. I fear that darkness has returned to Middle-Earth. It is said that the land of Mordor is cast in darkness again." Whispered Ginny, her eyes shut tight, as though in mortal pain.

"Is Luna fine?" asked Harry, remembering that their quirky friend, who had a sixth sense that had grown over the years. A sixth sense that was more like empathy, and she could sense the Dark Lord the last time he was present, and it made the woman so ill she had to remain in bed.

"She isn't in as bad state as before, but it will only be a matter of time." Murmured Ginny. "But there is something else. The ring, it has been missing all of this time. Luna said that it had been found, years ago. By a hobbit of all creatures!"

"Don't let 'Mione hear you saying that." Muttered Harry absently.

Ginny lay her head back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I just, I think there is more to it this time." Whispered Ginny. "I think that something big is going to happen."

Harry frowned in contemplation, before nodding his head mutely.

"You think that they will come out again?" said Harry quietly, his eyes downcast.

"Yes." Replied Ginny. "They have been waiting for far too long."

Harry nodded his head once more, and Ginny left the room, closing the great and ornately carved door to his rooms. Harry brought himself out of his bed, wearing but a simple shirt and loose pants. He grabbed a cup from the side, and walked over to the window which allowed him to view the sprawling and towering city below the centre tower. This was Dux Ducis, the capital city of the Land of Aurum. The city itself was made of towers, which were intermingled with one another. Harry knew that there was nothing else in the world which was like this building, nor was there any land which was like Aurum. They had combined their futuristic knowledge of architecture, magic and the general lay of the land to produce architectural masterpieces. Each and every single building was connected to the next by a variety of bridges which were connected between buildings of their own accord. Magical constructs. The buildings themselves were made from a graphite/diamond mixture, making them incredibly strong. Surrounding the city itself, was a tall wall, with no hole or door to enter the city by.

This wall was a mixture between naturally occurring stone, and the rare mythril which was found in the mountains to the North. The tower which Harry stood within now, was in the dead centre of the wondrous city, with its floating market stalls, laughter lining its footbridges as children ran to their friends house. The city was unique, and any whose eyes laid on it, would always stare in wonder and curiosity at such a city. To their eyes, it just simply couldn't work. With no area for farm land (not that new comers were privy to the magically constructed fields and artificial sunlight which existed below the city).

Harry's emerald green eyes, however, eventually stopped roaming the city, and came to rest on an incoming group of riders. Not of their own, as they always went to the fortress city of Bellum, where the army was stationed and trained. These were foreign, but not enemies from the way they rode with cautiousness of a newcomer, not that of an enemy. Harry set his hand on a gem which was by the window, and immediately put some magic into it. This cause it to glow a deep green colour.

"Allow the visitors to enter. I think this might work to our advantage." He said aloud.

_"Yes my lord." _Came the reply, before Harry shut the connection down.

A small sad smile remained on his face, as he looked out of the window once more. The things that had been in the muggle world, they had introduced to the new society they had been building. Albeit created magical versions.

No matter how much older other members of their party had been, they allowed Harry and his friends to make the decisions. They were the war heroes. They knew best. They eventually became the Council, the Council which governed Aurum, which was the land that they had landed in.

A land which was so saturated in magic, that the icy cold to the south didn't affect them at all. As Harry turned back, and began to slip a green shirt and a different pair of pants on, he continued to mull over the past. The very long past.

They had realised that they were immortal, so many years ago. Initially they had been shocked, then they had celebrated. It was only as they began to explore, and eventually they discovered a land which had but a few villages in it, villages whose general life was so low, and they could do so much to help.

Help they did. They turned a few villages into a city, then into more cities and then into a nation. They ruled fairly, as a Council, whose subjects, those new and those who had come with them, embraced this new utopia that was created. Until, people began to die. Until we began to realise what forever actually meant.

As our nation grew and prospered, learning new things, we began to notice a trend among them. Any whom were of our own blood, lived significantly longer than any other. A few hundred years longer, more like. But, it can be said that it takes a significant amount of will power to live so long, and eventually, some of our number began to decrease. There was one thing that could reverse the magic that I had inadvertently brought upon us when we went into the land of the dead. Death by suicide.

One by one, our number decreased. Some of us died, others disappeared into the shadows of society, moving in with the new settlers who had begun to appear further south. Those of us who persevered, began to isolate our nation from the warring nations to the south. We began to take it in turns, to go into an eternal sleep for a few hundred years. To block out the feelings of eternity.

It was during this, while we began to first sleep, that a group of soldiers from Bellum were to ride down to the southern lands, and bring word of what was going on there. So, every year since, the Riders took their journey south. It was on such a journey, that a group of Elves followed them. Thus, was the first contact with Elves, made by Lady Galadriel, some four thousand years prior. The Dwarves were next, while the humans never made contact. Concerning themselves only with the folly of men.

A wry smile appeared on Harry's face, as he walked out of his room, descending. The populace of Aurum didn't consider themselves human anymore. Not really. They all lived for a longer period of time, and many of their number were able to do magic, due to the magic saturated environment that they were in, and the blood which flowed through their veins. The blood of Harry's original comrades.

Harry slept during the period where they were asked to participate in the battle against Sauron, one that led to his downfall. Draco, Hermione and Ron had all come to the decision that it wouldn't do them any good to aid in such a war. One which would never reach them, they said.

But, that was before they had discovered what else had come with them from the lands of the Dead. A hundred years after the fall of Sauron, Luna had woken up screaming, in a fit or rage. The woman had always been more attuned to magic, especially the darker kinds, which made her appear insane at times. Something had become attached to them, like a parasite. It had come to this new world, and festers, without being held back, for thousands of years. It would soon be ready to strike, and when it did, they had to be ready.

This darkness, the combination of the misery of all of those from those lands, had taken forms of demons. Demons from the worst of nightmares. Demons who could travel in the shadows, and knew your next move, before you could even make it. There were forever biding there time, waiting.

The time had obviously come though, for this battle to start, as they were waiting for the first move to be made. Harry smiled sadly to himself, as he reached one of the reception rooms. Time for him to play the Lord of the lands.

* * *

_A week later_

Harry was wrapped in furs and the like, to ward off the cold to the south. He wore a pair of thick leather boots, which clicked against the floor as he walked. He held in his hands, a satchel which had within it anything he would need for the trip he was about to undertake. Weapons, medical supplies, food, water, comfortable sleeping conditions, even reading material. Ginny had been happy to help, as she would be staying behind. In fact, the only ones going were Hermione, Luna and himself.

He stood in the courtyard, while wrapping a pair of goggles around the top of his head. Luna and Hermione appeared next to him, similarly attired, to ward off the cold. Ron, Ginny, Neville, Draco and Fleur stood around, watching them leave. The others were stationed at other cities, or were required elsewhere.

"You all have the mirrors?" asked Harry, and the five brought out the small hand mirrors which were kept around their necks, which were used to speak to one another over long distances. "Good."

"You will call us if you need us, right?" asked Ginny, frowning at him.

"I will call you if you are needed." Replied Hermione, shooting Harry an annoyed look. Harry's pride wouldn't have let him ask for help until it was almost too late, age hadn't changed this view. The five shared an amused glance, while three stable helps brought three steeds for them to ride. The first steed was a threstral, while the latter two were Hippogriffs, a white and brown one and a black and white one. The threstral was given to Luna, while the Hippogriff's were given to Hermione and Harry respectively.

Nodding to the others, the three of them mounted their steeds in unison. Harry pulled his goggles over his eyes, knowing that both Luna and Hermione were doing the same.

"If you do not hear from us within two days, send out a scout." He called to them. Ron nodded his head, an arm extended to them in farewell. The three steeds then ran to the other end of the courtyard where there was no wall. When all three of them leaped from the walls, the city was sprawled out below them. The threstral and the two hippogriff's extended their wings to catch the wind, and then flapped them a few times to gain altitude. The wind rushed through Harry's ears, as the temperature began to drop the higher they went.

A grim smile appeared on his face, as he thought about what was to come. Soon, the world would be thrown into a darkness. A darkness which wasn't that of the current Dark Lord.

* * *

Frodo Baggins leant against the balcony that was apart of his room. He gazed out at the city of Rivendell, its beauty was that of simplicity and grace. As the sky moved into twilight, the sun's final light was cast at Rivendell, causingit to light up magnificiently. Already, elf maidens were lighting candles along the halls, and fireflies were flying across the various walkways, lighting the darkening sky around them.

Frodo switched his gaze to the entrance of Rivendell, where throughout the day riders had been arriving for the meeting the next day. He had spotted several Dwarves, Elves who weren't native to Rivendell, and quite a few men arriving throughout the day. Yet, when Frodo had seen the Lord Elrond and Gandalf conversing earlier on in the day, it looked as though they were still…expectant? For what, Frodo wasn't sure about.

From where he stood, he could see Elrond and Gandalf within the Elf Lord's study. The two of them kept on shooting glances to the sky, and it was really making Frodo curious. What were they waiting for? What were they so expectant for?

Suddenly, he felt a tangible tension on the air. A light frown on his face, Frodo looked around, trying to find the source. His eyes spotted Elf guards, who had their bows out, and were pointing towards something in the sky. Frodo looked up, spotting three winged-somethings which were flying in the direction of Rivendell. What they were, he couldn't tell at such a difference, although it appeared as though the Elves could see them a lot clearer.

Elrond and Gandalf had walked out onto the balcony, and were also looking up to the sky. Frodo stepped closer to the balcony's edge, straining his neck to see what was going on. He heard an order come from Elrond in elfish, and then the guards stood down in unison. Frodo could now make out what was flying towards Rivendell, and his eyes widened. He had never seen anything like this before, whatever it was, it was huge. Certainly large enough to bare the weight of a man with ease.

"Frodo!" Called Pippin and Merry as they ran up the steps towards him. "Come on, you have to see what we've found!"

Frodo offered them both a smile, and allowed himself to be dragged away. Content in the knowledge that his curiosity should be sated the next day.

* * *

In a courtyard within Rivendell, which was secreted away from the main part of the city, a group of nineteen met. There were three seats at the front, for Elrond and sons. Then in a circle around these seats were sixteen others. Frodo was led to his by Gandalf who then sat next to him, watching as people eventually made their way to the courtyard, and to their seats. The Elves were first to arrive, four of them, wearing green and brown clothing, which Frodo thought was from the Woodland Realm to the North. They sat on the other side of Gandalf, greeting the wizard warmly in their own language. Three men came next, baring a white tree on their uniform as they sat next to the elves. Gandalf quietly informed him that they were from Gondor.

Strider came in next, wearing what appeared to be an elf tunic. He sat himself in the seat furthest from the men. Three dwarves entered, sitting beside the men. They were stout, and about he same height, perhaps slightly taller, than Frodo himself. This left three more seats, and it was at this moment that Frodo realised that all that remained were the arrivals the night before.

The arrivals, which had triggered his curiosity. The final three arrived, causing a few raised eyebrows, but nothing more. The first was a man, who couldn't be thirty years of age. He had pale skin, black hair and strange, green eyes. He walked casually, and sat beside a dwarf, offering them a warm smile. What most likely caused the raised eyebrows were the presence of two women who walked in as well, and sat beside the man. A woman with long, blond hair and large blue eyes sat between the two, while a woman with brown hair and warm brown eyes that shone with intelligence sat beside Strider. At last, everyone was here.

Frodo's eyes flicked from person to person, as they waited for Elrond and his sons to arrive. To his side, he saw Gandalf nod his head in greeting to the three newcomers, and the man and the brunette nodded their heads at him. Frodo's eyes caught those of the blond haired woman's, who was watching him with interested. The large blue eyes seemed to bore into him, and he lowered his gaze, feeling uncomfortable. He looked at her, and saw that she still hadn't removed her gaze from him.

"Gandalf, who are they?" whispered Frodo, causing the wizard to look at him.

"They are from the lands to the North, past the frozen wasteland." Replied Gandalf, offering Frodo a kind smile.

Frodo frowned to himself, remembering the stories his Uncle had told him about the lands to the North, where nothing could live due to the icy environment and the bitter cold. It was said to be caused by the presence of an evil spirit, though Frodo thought that it was little more than a tale to scare little hobbits. The land beyond the icy wastes were never spoken of, besides it being mentioned that every three months a legion of men on horseback would ride down to trade, and to gain news of what was going on in the southern lands.

Elrond entered, along with a pair of twins, who settled themselves on either side of him. A silence permeated the air, as all watched the Elf Lord with interest. It suddenly hit Frodo, that none of them knew what they had been called for. None of them knew about then ring.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." Announced Elrond, his voice sharp and to the point. He gestured towards the pedestal in the centre, his gaze flicking to Frodo. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Frodo stood shakily, and walked the few steps forward. He could sense every single eye on him, all of them fixed on the outstretched hand as he lowered the ring onto the pedestal. The blond haired woman stared at him all the while, before flicking her penetrating gaze to the ring. Frodo turned back, and quickly made his way back to his seat beside Gandalf, suddenly feeling lighter.

"So it is true." Whispered one of the men from Gondor, staring at the ring with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"The Doom of Men." Came another whisper from another man.

The first man then stood up, and Frodo noticed a different emblem on his clothes, not merely that of a white tree. He was about to ask Gandalf of it, but then the man began to speak, addressing the whole council.

"In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: Your doom is near at hand." He stepped ever closer to the ring, his eyes staring at it. His gaze was of a different quality of the strange lady across from him. While hers was an ever-present and all-seeing stare, his look contained yearning that Frodo had never come across. "Isildur's Bane is found."

His hand then drifted over the ring, his eyes boring into it, as though he didn't see what was there. Frodo caught Elrond, Gandalf and the man and brunette woman sharing a significant look. The man's fingers hovered over the ring, but Elrond leaped out of his seat, distracting him immediately.

"Boromir!" Called Elrond, his eyes narrowing at the man before him.

Suddenly, a whispering, chanting noise echoed around them. Frodo flinched, and noticed the blond woman had paled considerably, and the man and woman were holding both of her hands. Frodo's curiosity spiked at this, while Gandalf stood up, and strange, harsh speech began to come from his mouth.

All around, clouds darkened, as thunder crackled around them. The other Council members had recoiled back, horrified. The man's green eyes, however, hadn't left that of the ring. Him and brunette seemed to be the only members of the council who hadn't recoiled, the two of them watching the ring carefully, observing it. Eventually, the chanting stopped, and Elrond shot Gandalf an annoyed look.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!" hissed Elrond.

"The ring was feeding on his desires." Announced the brunette, her tone slightly accented, her brown eyes ever observant, as she rose from where she was sat. She too, began to address the council. Frodo looked at her figure, although much taller than his own, he would guess that she was average height for a woman. The way her shoulder's hunched slightly showed that they were usual under a large amount of weight. "By coming so close to such an thing, the ring has read you. It knows and understands you more deeply than you would ever understand yourself. It will play on your fears, and eventually it would attempt to break you. As it had done to many others. The ring shouldn't be approached, unless by anyone who has a firm control over themselves, and their fears." Her brown eyes narrowed at the man, Boromir, as she walked across the stone floor, her footsteps clicking on the ground. "Therefore, no man should come into contact with it. They don't have a firm control over their minds to attempt such an endeavor. I suggest you stay in your seat, Captain of Gondor. Before you unknowingly feed the enemy information."

She then turned on her heel, walked back to her seat. Boromir watched her go, his eyes watching her every move cautiously. It suddenly hit Frodo that perhaps the man was apprehensive about speaking down to her, as he wasn't sure of her status, and didn't want to cause any problems. Frodo suddenly doubted that the man knew of her origins.

"You know of who I am, yet none here know of who you and your comrades are?" stated Boromir. "I know of no lands where women attend the councils of men, and have the courage to speak up against one. You are obviously human, and therefore I believe that you are from the South."

The word South was said as more of a hiss than anything. Frodo theorised that whatever _was_ South of Gondor, wasn't much liked by the Gondorians. Surprisingly, Boromir's answer came from Elrond himself.

"These three are from the lands to the far North. Emissaries I sent out some three weeks past managed to reach them in time to pass message of this council to them. I thought that their input would be appreciated in such times as this. War is upon Middle-Earth, whether we truly wish for it to be, or not. We must all prepare."

"Lands to the North?" asked a dwarf. "I was told that they refused to help in Sauron's first defeat."

"For that we apologise." Said the man simply, shooting the brunette a look, and she nodded her head to him. "There were things at the time which prevented us from helping. We had other things to take care of at the time. There was little point in us partaking in a war that wouldn't affect our homeland, until such time as Sauron would be near unstoppable. Until that time, there were risks to our lands which were far greater than Sauron's."

"You cannot apologise for the acts of your ancestors." Stated a man, shaking his head slightly.

The brunette offered the council a sad smile, before she spoke.

"It was I who told the envoy that the Land of Aurum would not fight with the armies of Men and Elves. That we had other things which were more important than such an act."

A pin could drop, and Frodo's eyes widened.

"That would make you at least three thousand years…" whispered Boromir, his eyes wide in shock. He had seen the round ears she had, all three of them had. None of them were Elf-Kind.

"Yes it would." She said mysteriously, before her eyes turned to that of the ring, frowning at it. "But rather than debating the age of a woman, which I do not approve of by the way as it is most embarrassing, might we discuss the fate of this devilry before us?"

All eyes turned back to the ring, whose influence on all of them had vanished in the few moments they had been conversing with the Northerners. Boromir's eyes narrowed on it, before he stood once more.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He walked around the ring, careful to keep away from it, heeding the woman's warning. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

Strider stood up, Frodo noted that his eyes were alight with irritation.

"You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Boromir turned to Strider, and Frodo saw the sneer the Gondorian had upon his face.

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?"

One of the Elves from Mirkwood stood up. The elf had blond hair and pale blue eyes, and aristocratic and ageless features.

"This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Hissed the Elf, causing Boromir to freeze in his steps, his face paling. He turned to Stider, who Frodo now realised was this Aragorn the Elf spoke of.

"Aragorn? This... is Isildur's heir?" whispered Boromir, staring at Aragorn in shock. Frodo frowned to himself, trying to work out where he had heard the name Isildur from.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Finished the Elf proudly, staring down Boromir.

Frodo's eyes widened, as they focused on Aragorn.

The man in question muttered something in Elfish to the Elf, who Frodo as able to identify as being called 'Legolas'. All three of them sat down.

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." Murmured Boromir.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Announced Gandalf.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Stated Elrond with an air of finality.

"Then what are we waiting for?" roared a dwarf, drawing his axe and striking at the ring, causing the axe to shatter.

Frodo flinched, seeing a flash of a burning eye, before it was gone. The blond haired woman had also flinched, and Frodo wondered if she too could hear the whispering.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." Announced Elrond, before taking a breath, and finishing saying his part. "One of you must do this."

Silence, dead silence. Frodo could barely hear them breathing, then the man, Boromir began to speak.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor-,"

"Then fly." Announced the man with green eyes, who rolled them at Boromir.

"Sauron would have placed protections around Mordor to prevent none but his Nazgul from flying into his lands." Replied the brunette. "If he hasn't, then he deserves to die for just being that foolish."

Boromir shot them both a glare, before continuing.

"Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!"

Legolas shot up from his seat.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" questioned Gimli, anger present in his voice.

"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" asked Boromir heatedly.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" hissed Gimli, causing the other elves with Legolas to immediately stand in offense followed by the dwarves. Frodo watched the mounting arguments with wide eyes, listening to the constant whispering from the ring, as it began to become more active with their arguments. Across from him, the woman seemed to be suffering also. Suddenly, she stood up, and walked towards the ring.

Frodo watched her in confusion, as did Aragorn, Gandalf, Elrond and his sons, as well as her companions. She bent down, and tilted her head near the ring. She appeared to be studying it, as one would do a piece of art, or a piece of meat. She opened her mouth and whispered something, but over the din the others were making, Frodo couldn't hear.

The man suddenly stood up, his green eyes flashing.

"Silence." he hissed, glaring out at all of the council members, who appeared to have been shocked into silence. This man, who appeared to hold none of the authoritarian presence that the other members of the council did, had managed to get them all to be silent. "You fools didn't heed Hermione's warning. The ring can read your thoughts, your desires, your fears, hates. By arguing in such a way, you are giving it a gesture of welcome into your very beings."

He turned around, facing the blond woman on the ground. The council members all watched the small woman, who was staring at the ring with an unblinking stare. Frodo caught some of them looking towards Elrond and Gandalf, obviously wondering whether they were about to let a woman be so close to the ring, as she knelt on the floor of the council.

"Luna, what is it saying?" questioned the man, as he placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"It knows its end draws near." Announced the woman. Her voice was airy, as though it was coming from far away. It drifted upon the air with an almost ridiculous ease. "It knows that it will be destroyed by the Fiend Fyres of Mount Doom. The everlasting flames." Her voice seemed to drift off into a tune, as she continued to stare at it. "It knows of them. It knows that the Nazgul seek it. It wants to go back to him, so much. It seems to want to bring its master back to full strength once more…But." She trailed off, an uncertain frown appeared on her features, the most human and normal expression Frodo had seen on her face so far. "It appears to have been in contact with something else. Something darker…" She hissed something in a language that Frodo didn't know, her eyes appeared to darken slightly. "Yet, the ring will not release its full strength unless it is certain it will get back to its master. It appears to have lost some faith in its master during their three thousand years apart. That is the problem with sentient objects, they have thoughts and feelings too." Her voice had turned into that of a tune, as she took the man's hand, as he helped her up. "Wouldn't you agree, Harry."

"I would." Replied the man, Harry, ignoring the almost-amused look the woman shot up, before she almost glided back to her seat.

The members of the council stared at the woman in shock, their eyes wide. Harry brushed a hand through his hair, frowning slightly.

"Who has the ring been in contact with since its departure from Isildur? Luna has reason to believe that something else has had it at some point, something darker."

Before Boromir could open his mouth, to no doubt question Luna, Gandalf spoke from beside Frodo.

"It was found, five hundred years or so ago, by a hobbit-like creature named Déagol. Déagol was murdered by Sméagol, who took the ring for himself. Over the years, Sméagol became something else entirely, going by the name Gollum. Frodo's Uncle Bilbo found the ring on a quest I set him on sixty years ago. I only realised what precisely the ring was when Frodo inherited it from his uncle."

"So we have two thousand five hundred years unaccounted for." Whispered Harry, frowning.

"Why? What has happened?" asked Elrond.

"The ring learns from everyone it comes into contact with. It has learned the art of true darkness within the last three thousand years, an art which Sauron most definitely doesn't know. An art of which the Dark Lord's of old would have paled in comparison. The ring has now become infinitely more powerful due to this, but will not use this power unless it knows it will get back to its master." Spoke Hermione.

Elrond nodded his head.

"But who is to take the ring?" asked Legolas, his eyes flicking from person to person.

Gimli moved to argue with him, and Frodo, perceiving what was about to be said, stood up. His mouth was open and saying words before he had even realised what it was doing.

"I will take the ring."

Silence, as everyone stared at the smallest member of their council. Frodo stepped back slightly, and his spontaneous action left him for a second, before he spoke once more.

"Though, I do not know the way."

He felt Gandalf settle a hand on his shoulder, and felt warmed and heartened once more.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Frodo offered the wizard a small smile, and watched as Aragorn approached him.

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." He knelt before Frodo, so that they were at eye level. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow!" announced Legolas, as he moved to join them.

"And my axe!" said Gimli, as he approached them, shooting Legolas a disgruntled look.

"You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." Murmured Boromir, as he approached, and then stood with them.

Frodo looked around, and watched as Harry approached, and then bowed down to the hobbit, causing his eyes to widen.

"If this party will be a direct representation of all the races, united against one tyrant, then it would not look well upon my fellows and I if we didn't not join in. I offer the services of the people of the Land of Aurum. It is past time we instilled our presence back into the darkness once more."

Harry stood and joined the group.

"Heh!" Came a voice from behind them all, as a hobbit that Frodo recognised with ease joined them. "Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!" Frodo offered an amused look towards Sam.

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Said Elrond in an amused, almost sarcastic tone.

"Wait! We are coming too!" Came two voices in sync with one another, as two more hobbit came into the courtyard, causing Frodo's smile to widen, as mirth flooded his body.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" said Merry.

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing." Announced Pippin, nodding his head at them.

"Well that rules you out Pip." Murmured Merry.

"Ten companions... So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" mused Elrond, holding his arms up in their direction.

"Great! Where are we going?" questioned Pippin, frowning at them all.

* * *

This story shall most likely be updated at some point, so keep watching this space! :) I do hope you all review. Any die hard LOTR fans with complaints I will be happy to hear from, or anyone else.

Any tips on how it can be improved, or anything. I shall very muchly appreciated.

This day also marks the 5 years I have been an active member of this site. :) Quite impressive, as I am considered an old timer I guess :)

Ahh well.

For any of you who read my other stories, **Noir et Blanc's **new chapter is complete, just being betaed. **Uchiha**** Haru** is going quite well, at least, now it is. **Rebirth of Ninja** has come across a slight problem, but it will be updated before Summer is over.

Love

Morrigu-chan x


	2. Hiding in Plain Sight

**A/N: **Here is chapter two of **Rings and True Immortality**, and I hope you all enjoy it. To anyone who is reading this – I have full intention of updating all of my stories. I have no abandoned them. I am just having a slight break I guess. But things are being written – new stuff. I'm trying to incorporate that into my old stories though. Right now, I am focusing on my studies, and writing out several Harry Potter/Twilight cross overs, which I hope will be well received.

Enjoy :)

**Merry Christmas!**

**Summary: **The World was destroyed. All that remained of it is a scattered group of wizarding refugees, whose leader is one Harry Potter. They sought refuge in the lands of Middle-Earth, and for thousands of years, they grew in number, becoming a race far greater than anything else. But darkness is upon them. Darkness which Sauron pales in comparison.

* * *

**Rings and True Immortality**

**Chapter II: Hiding In Plain Sight**

**By The Morrigu**

* * *

'_I know he's living in hell every single day  
And so I ask oh god is there some way for me to take his place  
And when they say just touch and go I wish I could make it go away  
But still you say  
Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand?  
When all you know seems so far away and everything is temporary, rest your head  
I'm permanent  
I'm permanent'_

'_**Permanent' by David Cook**_

Harry stood on one of the many balconies of Rivendell, watching the sunset with interest. They occurred much later than they did in Dux Ducis, and it was something he didn't want to miss. His eyes flicked over to Luna, as she walked towards him, before standing next to him.

"The fact that you offered yourself like that means that there is still some of Harry James Potter left." She said. For once, her tone was neutral and direct.

"Rather than being the High Lord of Aurum." He shot back at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiled at him airily.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Chosen One, or whatever the other publications called you." She offered him a bright smile. "Except the Quibbler."

"Except the Quibbler." He nodded in accord. "Are you staying here? I am under the impression that 'Mione is riding out to Minas Tirith. She thinks it would be a good idea that at least one of us remains as close to the enemy as possible."

"She just wants to look at the great libraries once more." announced Gandalf, as he walked out to meet them. He embraced Harry warmly, and then kissed Luna's knuckles when a hand was offered to him. "You both haven't aged a day."

Harry offered a grin to the Wizard. It was a running joke between Gandalf and them.

"I should hope not. I would hate for my age to suddenly start to catch up on me." Said Harry, rolling his eyes at the wizard.

"I trust that all is well in Aurum?" questioned Gandalf, as he sat on a bench, with Luna sat on Harry's other side.

"Yes. As it always is." Harry frowned here though, and Luna spoke from the other side.

"It has been a long calm before the storm." She said, her voice airy once more.

"What is it that you are waiting for?" asked Gandalf, frowning.

Harry sighed, and then rubbed his temples.

"Not long after Sauron's first defeat, our forces began to notice that something was wrong. Dreadfully so. Those who were attuned and were able to use magic were those who noticed it first. Apparently, it isn't just happening in Aurum. It is happening everywhere. It was when Teddy arrived back to Dux Ducis, that we realised how bad it was." Harry levelled Gandalf a look. "I trust you know what a Balrog is?"

"A demon of Morgoth." Answered Gandalf immediately.

"But you have to ask yourself where such demons came from? The Valar perhaps? As the Elves believe." Here, Harry shook his head slightly. Gandalf offered him a slight smile. It was common knowledge that those in Aurum found the Valar to be more of a myth than actual fact. No matter how much Gandalf tried to persuade them, their views couldn't be changed. "When the Elves first made contact with us, we informed them of our origins. They, in turn, told us of theirs. But, we never explained to you what happened during the transition."

"What do you mean…?" Gandalf trailed off, shooting them both a significant glance.

"We came from the World of the Dead." Stated Luna. "Then we came here. We were dead, then we were alive. But we had been forever removed from Death's list. We couldn't die. Nor could we age. The elves assumed that it was the Magic Blood in our veins, which enabled our immortality, and the long lives of our kin. But this is the reason why. Death's list is long and vast, and any kin of ours are automatically put at the end of the list for as long as possible."

"What did Teddy see?" requested Gandalf, frowning again. He knew of Teddy Lupin, as did Elrond, Galadriel and Celeborn. The first time he had met the man, he had thought that he was initially looking into a mirror. Until Harry had explained to him that his godson had the ability to change his looks at will. The metamorphamagus, as Harry had called him, was in charge of the other metamorphs, and they all fitted seamlessly within the other societies of Middle Earth, as the silent protectors. In fact, Gandalf had last seen Teddy when he visited the Shire, where he was under the guise of a hobbit. Harry had informed the three elder Elves that they were not spying on them, but on the look out for something. Gandalf assumed that whatever that was, it had appeared now. But with references to the land of the dead, whatever it was wasn't about to be pretty.

"They are beings of Shadow." Said Harry. "An almost unstoppable force, who have been locked away in the Land of the Dead for many years. But they are not the friendly sort. Being locked there for many years have turned them into something else, not so dissimilar to the Nazgul."

"You are saying that there is an army of Nazgul-like beings out there, who are waiting for the moment at which to fight." Hissed Gandalf.

"Yes." Replied Luna, her voice soft. "There is nothing anyone can do about it. Such beings cannot be killed, as what is life without darkness? The mortals do not understand such things, and nor do the elves, such as Elrond." She sighed wistfully. "He still remains the Elf who was so full of morals. Especially when he came to us with Gil-Gilead. They are creatures of light, it can be said. But so few of them understand that only true light can exist in true darkness. Without darkness, how can such light blossom? The mortals shall have to face the fact that no matter how many spears they raise, they will not be able to live in times of peace. The balance must be upheld, and without constant wars, it will tip."

"You speak truly, but we must let them hope for something to change. For this cycle to end itself right now, with the destruction of the ring." Reasoned Gandalf, his eyes solemn.

"This is why the Shadows are waiting though. They understand the balance, and they also understand that by joining in this coming war, it will cause the balance to tip, thus making things worse. They shall wait until the moment that the ring is destroyed by the Fiend Fyres until they launch their attack. Then, we will not stand a chance, as we shall be weak in that single moment in time."

"But if you are aware of it, surely it can be stopped?" questioned Gandalf.

"We shall make an attempt to stop the mortals from being overwhelmed. We shall not let Middle-Earth fall to a darkness which we brought with us here. A darkness which has forever existed here long before those of Numenor came to these lands. Come, my friend. We must rest. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Aye. That we do. Lady Luna, I trust that you shall be fine without your comrades with you for the coming months?"

Luna offered him a bright smile.

"I shall, Olorin. I may journey Eastwards at some point, and meet with Galadriel and Celeborn." She embraced him a hug, almost startling the Istari. "Until we meet again, my white friend."

She glided away from the balcony, leaving the two wizards alone for a moment.

"After the two thousand years I have known her, I still don't think I am used to her." said Gandalf, shaking his head slightly.

"You get used to her after some time." Announced Harry. "It took Hermione a few thousands years, but she got their in the end."

"Yes, Lady Hermione is a bit too rational for Luna, hm?"

Harry nodded his head in accord, before leaving the balcony himself. He paused for a moment, as though coming to a decision.

"You know about Aragorn's origins, correct?" asked Harry carefully, frowning slightly.

"Yes." Replied Gandalf. "Why do you ask?"

"Andromeda has been keeping track of the Royal Line for centuries, with Draco's help. It is the pureblood in them coming out, I guess." Here, he sighed. "He is the son of Gilraen and Arathorn, correct?"

Gandalf nodded his head, watching Harry carefully.

"You are also aware of the mixed bloodlines we had to create in Aurum, to preserve the magic that was in our system. To prevent interbreeding?"

Gandalf nodded his head once more, failing to see where this was going.

"Did you ever come across Gilraen's mother?"

"Ivormere?" asked Gandalf. "Once. She claimed to have had a vision of Arathorn's death, and then made her husband give the couple permission to marry, although she knew it would be for a short time. Arathorn was shot by an orc. The arrow pierced his eye. Why do you ask?"

"The only once with the abilities of visions were the elf kind, and within our group, it was Luna and myself. Ivormere wasn't elf-kind. So she must have been a distant relation of either myself, or Luna. Or both."

"Aragorn is possibly one of your relations." Murmured Gandalf.

Harry nodded his head.

"That explains a few things then."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but the Wizard waved them off.

"I shall explain on our journey."

* * *

_Harry walked into the very depths of the city of Dux Ducis. Beneath the city itself, lay an intricate cave network, which is where farming was done. Using magic to grow crops and the like. But even beneath this, were the vaults. Not dissimilar to the vaults of Gringotts, this level could only be access by the original travellers. The ones who had made the journey some six thousand years prior. He appeared at the lowest depth, his eyes automatically getting use to the eerie darkness. A darkness that was only penetrated by green flames every ten or so feet. This level was for the most valuable things, items which were for them, and for them only. He strolled over to a section of the wall, which with Hermione's help he had developed. It responded to his touch, revealing a vault, secreted away from all the others. Within it was a table with three boxes on. Harry knew what was in those boxes. The invisibility cloak. The Elder Wand. The Resurrection Stone. The three items that made him the Master of Death._

_All around the wall were the hundred or so names of those who had come with them. Those who had stepped through the veil. Then, there were the names of their children, those who had also been gifted with true immortality, rather than a long life._

_But well over half of the names had been crossed out. They had all died by their own hands. Over the six millennia since the Land of Aurum had been created, many of the Immortals had taken their own lives. Harry reached up, a glowing fingertip reaching one particular name. **Charles Potter. **Something clenched in his gut, as he crossed out the name of his eldest Grandson. Albus' eldest, who had lived to the west of Dux Ducis, in a harbour city of Maris._

_He knew that when Albus woke up from his sleep, he would be angry. He would probably take out his resentment on his father, but Harry knew he would have to take it. Albus was Harry's eldest child, and no matter what the boy, because he would always be a boy, said to him. Harry would still love him. Harry's mind drifted off to when he found James' body, lay in his bed, a dagger in through his heart. That was about sixteen hundred years before._

_Out of all of those who had come originally, Harry had had the most children. This was because any of Harry's blood were going to be immortal. In order to preserve the immortality they had been gifted with, Harry's blood acted as a way to purify the blood. At least in the way Draco would explain it._

_His hand involuntary found its way to the wall, tracing out names which were long forgotten. The early ones, who couldn't survive the first few hundred years. Well before they began to sleep for a few centuries. **Katie Bell. George Weasley. Angelina Weasley. Dennis Creevy. **_

_All lost, before they had even truly begun. At times, he considered joining them. But he knew that it wasn't possible. That he was **different.** That no matter how hard he tried, he could never join the ones he loved. He was destined to walk this world alone, not just because he was the Master of Death. But because, **Neither** **can live while the other survives.** All because of some stupid prophecy that was going to govern the rest of his existence. No matter how much power was at his fingertips, he could never change that fact._

_Ever._

* * *

It was first light the next day, when everyone was gathered within a courtyard, as the fellowship prepared to depart. Many elves stood around to watch them leave. Sam was saddling the pony with the equipment, while Legolas and Gimli checked their weapons. From where Harry was stood, he could see the entire courtyard. Could see Aragorn and Arwen's conversation, while Elrond spoke with Gandalf of the route. His two comrades were standing with the elves, and at first glance, one would believe them to be one of their kind. Luna was gazing out across the courtyard with interest, while Hermione wore a travelling cloak, and was prepared to leave herself, in the direction of Minas Tirith. Harry could see the other prepared to go, and he jumped down from where he was, startling a few elves, as he stepped down the steps to join the group. The four hobbits were murmuring with one another, as they awaited the departure. Harry checked that he had everything he would need, the satchel which he carried everything in, as well as a pair of foot long blades strapped to his back, and the two wand holsters strapped to his arm. Not that he need a focus anymore to do magic, none of them did. But, to do the more complicated and destructive arts, a wand would always be needed. Just as a wizard needed their staff. He ignored the curious look that Gimli shot him, as his obvious lack of weapons, aside from the blades. He heard Boromir snort to himself, and Harry bit his cheek. He had long since lost the desire to please everyone around him, and he wasn't about to regain it anytime soon.

Elrond then stepped up the steps, near where Arwen now stood, with Hermione and Luna nearby. The group of ten remained in the courtyard.

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you." Called Elrond to them all, nodding to the group, before spreading his arms to them. Harry watched with interest as both Legola and Aragorn bowed their heads, hands on their hearts. It was an elfish parting, so it was strange that the man knew it.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer." Called Gandalf, causing Frodo to uncertainly step forward.

Harry bit his lip in amusement as Frodo confirmed with Gandalf the way for them to go. As they began to go left, Harry turned around, nodding his head towards both ladies who stood watching him. He saw Aragorn doing something similar, as Harry turned around to catch up to Gandalf.

The trek down from Rivendell, towards the Trollshaw Forest took some time. It was mid-afternoon before they got to the woods, and the only ones talking were the hobbits, and Aragorn and Legolas. Boromir had been quiet, while Gandalf had been in conversation with Gimli. Harry himself took joy out of listening to the conversations around him, having been out of the 'loop' for some time. It was as they went into the forest, that a screech echoed out across the forest, as a dark shadow flew over them from up above. All four of the hobbits flinched at the sound.

"What was that?" asked Sam, frowning.

"A bird." Drawled Boromir.

"It was an Eagle's call. But it was far too loud for such a creature." Replied Legolas, his eyes alight with worry.

"We do not need to worry." Stated Gandalf, amused. "If I am correct, that was Lady Hermione, departing Rivendell." Gandalf shot a look to Harry, whom was standing at the back of the line, behind the hobbits and the pony. "You said that Lady Luna was remaining behind?"

"Yes. She took it upon herself to take advantage of Elrond's hospitality." Replied Harry with amusement. He then caught the questioning looks that the others had on their faces, and he elaborated. "We have creatures in Aurum called Hippogriffs. These creatures have the heads of eagles, and the bodies of a horse. They can fly over great distances, and carry a lot of weight. That was Hermione leaving just then, she is going to Minas Tirith."

Boromir's eyes widened, as he shot a look at Harry. Harry raised an eyebrow in askance.

"What makes her think she would be welcomed at the White City?"

"Gondor had an alliance with Aurum, though it hasn't been renewed for some time. She is going to Minas Tirith to do so. She hopes your father will be as welcoming as the Kings of the past were with her."

"You allowed her to travel on her own, what if she were attacked?" asked Aragorn. "Were you not to protect her?"

Harry suddenly realised how they saw him. He had allowed Hermione to lead the meeting, and had aided Luna when she was listening to the ring. Such behaviour was most likely uncommon for them, and they obviously thought of him as being a guard to the two of them, not a Lord of any sort. An amused look was on Gandalf's face, as he came to the same conclusion. Harry inwardly shrugged, thinking that he should play along for the moment.

"Hermione is able to protect herself." Replied Harry. "I travelled with them to attend the council, and to then act in any way I chose to. I chose to join this fellowship because I feel that the High Lord of Aurum would have wanted someone to be representing our country within the fellowship, with Hermione busy and Luna unable to."

"The High Lord?" asked Gimli gruffly. "Aye, I've heard of that title before."

Legolas nodded his head in agreement, while the hobbits looked confused.

"My father mentioned those to the North to me before. That they were forever stuck in time, and immortal. We elves can be killed, whereas those of the North couldn't be killed. My father said that it was the power of the High Lord which granted this, and that he could just as easily have it taken away. Those who live in Aurum refer to him as the Master of Death." Stated Legolas.

Harry nodded his head to the statement, confirming its truthfulness. Gandalf was the only person who saw him touch his left forearm, causing the wizard to frown slightly.

"How can someone never die?" questioned Merry, his eyes wide at the implication.

"It is one of the best kept secrets of Aurum." Announced Gandalf. "How they have lived for thousands of years. I myself have seen many of their number die, and then get back up. However, contrary to popular opinion, the High Lord cannot give and take life so easily. No man could do such a deed. Their method of immortality has kept them alive for many thousands of years, before the elves graced the lands of Middle-Earth, and before the fall of Numenor, before even hobbits came to be. Both Lady Hermione and Luna have been around since the beginning, while Harry here, you have been around for however long you choose to be." Gandalf was amused, but he understood Harry's want for these people to not know his status. To not know the power which he had at his fingertips. To be Just Harry.

"Aye, my friend. That I have."

* * *

They travelled for days, moving swiftly over the land, following the less-known trails that both Gandalf and Aragorn were familiar with in order to avoid being seen. They went along the foothills of the Misty Mountains, going towards the Gap of Rohan. The group conversed with one another, as they shared their cultures. Particularly the inquisitive hobbits. Harry, however, held back from sharing his own. The others of the group appeared to have acknowledged the fact that his was going to be one of the more interesting ones, and were waiting for a time in which they could all hear it with interest.

During one of their many stops, Harry overheard the hobbit's speaking of the stories of his homeland with amusement. Apparently, stories of the man named Death was something that got all young hobbits to go to bed when they were told. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione.

"We keep this course for forty days." Said Gandalf, as he lit his pipe.

Harry snapped out of his daze, and looked towards the wizard, who was watching the others of the camp with enjoyment at their antics. Boromir was trying to teach Merry and Pippin how to fight using swords, to great hilarity.

"I am to understand that there are problems in Rohan?" stated Harry, shooting Gandalf a look. Gimli was listening to their conversation, so he couldn't go into much detail on his knowledge about that.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome." Announced Gimli.

Harry sent Gandalf a knowing look, agreeing with the wizard immediately. Moria wouldn't welcome them. Neither of them had the heart to tell the dwarf what had befallen his cousin, for it would cause more harm than good. A commotion behind him caught his attention, as both Merry and Pippin pinned Boromir to the ground, as Aragorn was laughing at their antics.

"What is that?" called Sam, immediately getting his attention.

"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud." Said Gimli dismissively.

Harry felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, as he stood up, his green eyes focusing on the approaching black mass. He sent out a wave of magic, so little that only Gandalf would have felt it. The wizard shot Harry a look at it though. Harry frowned to himself, as the results he got back. It was Saruman's spies.

"It's moving fast, against the wind." Announced Boromir, just as Harry came to the realisation.

"Spies of Saruman." Hissed Harry, and immediately everyone dived for cover, hiding. A few seconds after Harry had said this, Legolas was able to identify what they were. But by that point, their position had been discovered.

"Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." Said Gandalf, as everyone began to get out of their hiding spots. He then turned to the large mountain before them, its snow-covered top could barely be seen below the clouds.

Harry let out a long-suffering sigh, as everyone prepared to go. He hated being cold.

* * *

"Harry." Called Gimli gruffly, catching Harry's attention, from his place at the front, just behind Gandalf. "You going to explain to us about ya land, eh laddie?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the dwarf. He was a very direct creature.

"What is it that you are wanting to know?" asked Harry, as he allowed the dwarf to catch up. The snow was about ankle deep, so it was still relatively easy to walk in.

"I have never known a land where women speak as if they are men." Said the dwarf. "Even the dwarf-women are not allowed to do such a thing."

"You will find that the land of Aurum is a lot more relaxed about such things. For example, why only let men fight when letting women join in as well doubles the size of your army?"

"Not to sound distrustful, but I would rather a man hold a shield than a woman." Replied Gimli, appearing to be most amused at the idea.

"Then I would dearly like to see you fight against some of the ladies of the Council." Stated Harry, trying to see the dwarf being able to fight Hermione, Luna, Ginny or any of the other girls, and winning. He couldn't see it happening.

"Anytime after this my lad." Replied Gimli.

"Just to reassure you, my coin will not be on you." Said Harry, causing Gandalf, who was overhearing their conversation, to snort to himself.

"What?" sputtered Gimli.

"Don't take offence, Gimli." Murmured Gandalf. "The ladies of the Council have many more years of experience than yourself. There are very few people who can go toe to toe against them, and win. Of them all though, it is the High Lady of Aurum who is the one to fear. She is just like a dangerous animal, and has the instincts of one too."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the wizard, as he spoke of Ginny. His heart panged slightly, as he thought of his wife. He knew that he could speak to her should he wish to, but he would wait until they were in some relative safety.

"Frodo!" Came the shout from behind. The trio turned around, to see Frodo get up from where he had slipped down the hill. Suddenly, Harry could hear the frantic whisperings of the language of Mordor, all being aimed at one individual. Boromir.

Immediately, a small dagger appeared in his hand, and he was prepared to throw it with unrivalled accuracy should Boromir attempt to put it on.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt…over so small a thing. Such a little thing." Came Boromir's whispered words.

Harry held the dagger in his fingers, poised to throw it. He ignored Gimli watching his every move, and Gandalf being the silent observer. This was Boromir's choice, whether or not to succumb to the power of the ring. But Harry would be the ultimate decider or whether or not the ring would succeed in its endeavor.

"Boromir, give the ring to Frodo."

Harry watched as the Gondorian snapped from his trance, and blinked several times. He then walked down the slope to where Aragorn and Frodo stood, and handed the ring back to Frodo.

"I care not." He said, his voice soft, as he jokingly played with the hobbits hair.

The others continued walking up, and Harry didn't move until Boromir walked past him. His instincts told him to not let the man out of his sight, and he had no intention of doing as such.

* * *

The following days proved more and more treacherous, as it seemed as though the mountain itself was against their jounrney. The fellowship was hit with increasingly harsh weather, as they reached near the top of the mountain in order to cross the pass. The snow rained down on them, as the hobbits clung to the more sturdy members of the group. Legolas, who walked on top of the snow, scouted ahead for them. Harry wrapped an arm around Sam, as a particularly strong wind hit the pass.

"There is a fell voice on the air." Called Legolas, his tone worried, as he listened to the voice that the wind carried.

Harry stretched out in senses, as his magic exited his body, causing Sam to shiver unexpectedly. The area was charged magically, which could only mean one thing. Saruman.

"It's Saruman!" roared Gandalf, who had come to the same conclusion as he did. Harry listened to the voice, translating what the once-great wizard was chanting.

Harry felt the magic in the area speak, and he pushed Sam towards the wall of the pass, and roared.

"Get near the wall."

Everyone did as he said, even Gandalf. Just in time, as rocks began to fall from the top of the mountain, which would have crushed the group of Harry hadn't made them move. Once the rocks had fallen down into the depths, Harry stepped out onto the edge of the ledge, his eyes closed as he listened to the wind, and what the magic was trying to say.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" announced Aragorn over the blizzard, trying to give the wizard council. However, Gandalf proved to be more stubborn than that.

"No." shouted Gandalf, as he stood on top of the snow, and walked to the very edge of the ledge. Harry chanced to look behind, where the others were holding on to the wall, watching Gandalf in confusion. They didn't see what the wizard could do against such forces.

"Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!" chanted Gandalf, trying to sooth the mountain, and to prevent Saurman's spell. Harry felt the magic come to life, and he offered the spell some of Harry's own magic, in order to make it more powerful.

"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; Nai yarvaxea rasselya; taltuva notto-carinnar!" The voice was back, and Harry realized that he was using the Orthanc to magnify his powers. He growled low in his throat, as he felt the magic force a lightning bolt to hit the top of the mountain.

"Get back." Hissed Harry to Gandalf, as his eyes appeared to glow green, though only the other wizard could see this.

"Finite." Was issued from his lips, and when the spells of the other two wizards were long and drawn out, Harry's own magic could pierce it like a knife, causing the magic that was built up to dissipate. Even as the storm clouds began to fade, the damage has already been done, as an avalanche poured down the mountain, and he only just managed to get back near the wall in time, as snow rained down upon them. But a satisfied smirk was on his face. No doubt, the fool of a wizard was pondering over the new-found power his once comrade has acquired.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" said Boromir, a sense of desperation in his tone, once everyone had dug themselves out of the snow.

"That road takes us too close to Isengard." Argued Harry almost immediately, as his mind began to analyse possible routes, and then a cold began to fill his chest. A cold that had nothing to do with the snow around him. He knew what route they would have to take.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Said Gimli with an air of finality.

Gandalf looked torn for a moment, while Harry nodded his head towards his old friend. There was nothing that could be done now. Whatever lay in wait for them in Moria, they would have to face. Head on.

"Let the ringbearer decide."

All eyes turned to the pale Frodo, who appeared to shrink at everyone's stares. It took him less than a second to decide, and Harry felt his heart clench when the young hobbit did.

"We go through the mines."

* * *

This chapter two.

I hope you all enjoyed it – and that it may have answered some questions for you all. I am going to have fun writing this story, a lot of fun in fact.

Please enjoy :)

Review

Merry Christmas!

Lots of Love

Morrigu-chan x


	3. The Old Magic

**A/N: **Hey hey everyone! Here is the third chapter of this story. It doesn't quite manage to finish Fellowship, but I hope to have the rest and the chase after the hobbits in the next chapter :)

Enjoy :)

Any questions about this story should be asked in your review please! Or you could PM me.

Yes, I am using the film transcripts. As much as I love the book, it does over complicate alot of things.

Announcement: I got into my chosen university :D:D University of Dundee here I come! Your wonderful author will be a Forensic Anthropologist one day! XD

**Summary: **The World was destroyed. All that remained of it is a scattered group of wizarding refugees, whose leader is one Harry Potter. They sought refuge in the lands of Middle-Earth, and for thousands of years, they grew in number, becoming a race far greater than anything else. But darkness is upon them. Darkness which Sauron pales in comparison.

* * *

**Rings and True Immortality**

**Chapter III: The Old Magic**

**By The Morrigu**

* * *

'_'Cause, everything's broken  
Everything's vacant  
Everything's wasted time again  
Sentiments hopeless  
Innocence jaded  
Everything's wasted time again_

Ahh someday we might find  
Some sacred place in time  
But until then all we'll share  
Are dreams we've left behind'

- _**Wasted Time by Fuel**_

Harry watched the fellowship with a concerned and aged gaze. Through time, and greater experience, he had learnt to spot the signs of the weak minded. People whom he should be wary of, people who when the time came, they wouldn't be able to cope with what was before them. As his emerald gaze scanned the group, he began to notice this. His subconscious had already acknowledged that the weakness in the group lay with Boromir, who could easily turn against them and go to grab the ring for his own means. A second weakness had been unknowingly created by Gandalf, by the whispering into Frodo's ear that he couldn't trust anyone. Even within the fellowship. Although Gandalf was wise, and had been around for some time, he had been on Middle-Earth for less than three thousand years. Harry had seen such statement, meant to be said in order to make people more vigilant, be the cause for whole armies to fall against the might of the enemy. Whether or not his old friend was aware of the possible effects of his words, he did not know. Harry frowned to himself, as he watched the approaching walls of the mines of Moria, and moved to be closer to Gandalf, quick enough to hear his parting words.

"There are many powers in this world, for Good or for Evil. Some are greater than I am. And against some I have not yet been tested."

Harry shot Gandalf a look, which the wizard picked up on, and bowed his head slightly in mourning. Something was going to happen, something that the wizard had seen. Harry didn't like it. He had enough experience when dealing with what might happen, that it couldn't be changed. That no matter how hard a person tried, what was planned in the future, will always happen, as some point or another.

"The walls of Moria!" exclaimed Gimli, breaking him from his musings. The excited dwarf made him smile slightly, as it was rare to see such creature quite so joyful. It appeared to be having an affect on the party as a whole, especially the hobbits. However, both Gandalf and he knew that within the walls of Moria, there would be nothing to welcome them. The dwarves had long since passed from these parts.

He allowed his feet to move swiftly over the rocks, moving with speed and grace that rivalled that of the elves, which was something that he had learnt over time, rather than an innate grace he was born with. Behind him, the fellowship were discussing the walls of Moria, and he overheard Legolas and Gimli's banter. He reached the area where the doors to Moria were first, and heard a slash behind him, and a gasp from Frodo. No doubt the hobbit had slipped into the pool of water. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he flicked his eyes towards the lake, feeling as though someone was watching. In all of his life, his instinct had never failed him. He stepped closer to the lake, frowning at it. To everyone else, it would merely seem as though he was staring at nothing, for no reason. The frown was barely decipherable on his face.

The rest of the group settled themselves in front of the doors, and Harry turned around to watch Gandalf attempt to open them. A wry grin appeared on his face, even as his senses were focused on the lake behind him.

"Those doors are foolproof. Unless you know the password Gandalf, we will not be getting in." announced Harry, raising his eyebrow towards the wizard, while his eyes read the writing on the wall, knowing that if Hermione were here, she would have worked it out by now. By the annoyed look on Gandalf's face, he knew that the wizard was thinking something similar.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves...Men...and Orcs." Sighed Gandalf, rubbing his temples lightly. Everyone had sat down on the rocks now, and appeared to have settled in to wait for sometime.

"What are you going to do, then?" questioned Pippin cheerfully.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words." Replied Gandalf, annoyance highlighting his tone.

Harry smiled wryly, before setting down, his back to the lake. He brought his knees up to his chest, and appeared to be settled. He closed his eyes, and expanded his magic. It was so subtle, that he doubted even Gandalf picked it up. Through this, he could see Bill the pony trotting away, Frodo and Gandalf discussing the entrance to the mine, Aragorn stopping Pippin and Merry from disturbing the water and Gimli speaking to Legolas in a proud tone of all the treasures in the mine. Boromir had settled beside himself, and appeared to be unsure how to proceed.

"Speak, you obviously have something on your mind." Murmured Harry, opening his eyes and looking towards the man, who looked deep in thought.

"I do not understand why the ring cannot be used as a weapon." Replied Boromir in a low voice. Harry frowned slightly, not sure why the man was asking he of all people this.

"The ring will only work for its master. Everything other than that, it is trying to get back to its master. Isuildur died, not because he was attacked, but because the ring abandoned him. This is what will eventually happen to anyone who attempts to be the rings master. Men have been shown to fall to the rings power far quicker than any other creature. This is why it cannot be used as a weapon." Stated Harry softly. "All of the races of Middle-Earth, men, elves and dwarves, they have all had their minds used by the ring of power. Only the Elven Rings can attempt to hold the power at bay. That is why places like Rivendell and Lothlorien are safe havens. The fate for all ring bearers is death." Harry's eyes focused on Frodo, frowning. "But Hobbits have never been taken into the equation before. By all accounts, Frodo is doing remarkably well."

"You show great insight." Announced Boromir, frowning at him with guarded eyes.

"I have to. In the Councils of the North, you have to be prepared for anything. You have to know everything around you, that could come upon you from any angles. I have watched over the council for many centuries. Do not let my looks fool you, Man of Gondor. When the time comes, you shall see the full might that the experience of the age can have against the enemy."

"What do you mean?" asked Boromir, frowning.

"That is for another time." Answered Harry, as his senses began to alert him to something in the water. Boromir moved to stand beside Aragorn, who was watching the water as well.

"It's a riddle! What is the elvish word for friend?" shouted Frodo, as he stood up. Gandalf looked at him in surprise.

"Mellon."

The ripples in the water continued, and Harry still had his back to the water, even as the fellowship was watching the water nervously. The great doors opened with a creak, and Gandalf and Frodo entered the mine, with the other following slowly. Harry made sure he was the last one in the mine, and got in soon enough to hear Gimli's words.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."

Light pierced the room, highlighting it. There were bodies littering the room, bodies that had been their for decades at the very least. It was the remains of a battle that had been fought long ago.

"This is no mine, it's a tomb!" hissed Boromir, as his eyes gazed at the bodies of dwarves. Gimli gave off a strangled cry in shock, and Harry felt his stomach clench painfully, with the knowledge that both Gandalf and he knew what awaited for them in these mines.

"Goblins!" said Legolas spitefully, having grabbed one of the arrows that were in the bodies.

"Make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here. Now get out of here! Get out!" ordered Boromir, and Harry saw the Hobbits beginning to move back towards him. In that second, he sensed a movement from the lake behind. He swirled around, just in time to see Frodo being dragged to the water, being pulled from right beside him. His instincts acted immediately, and before the hobbits even had time to call for aid, Harry was chasing after Frodo. Behind him, he heard the trio of hobbits shout towards the other members of the fellowship. Harry knew that attacking the tentacles holding Frodo, the Kraken would just continue attacking. He moved with such a startling speed, that no doubt the hobbits, and in turn the rest of the fellowship had completely missed his movements, as he leapt into the lake, going after the creature itself.

He could distantly hear the members of the fellowship battling the creature, and the creature fighting back. Harry then grabbed onto the creatures main body, and concentrated on a his own magical energy. With a thought of '_reducto' _the body of the Kraken exploded outwards. Harry reappeared on the edge of the lake, and watched as Boromir caught Frodo in his arms the second the Kraken dropped the hobbit. However, the force of the explosion and the battle, causing the unstable foundations that kept the entrance to Moria upright began to topple. The other members of the fellowship began the run in, and with Harry's aged and developed eyes, he could make out their movements as if they were in slow motion. Harry followed immediately, using magic to boost his movements to make his body move through the air at a pace that was unmatched. He slid his way into the mine, just as the entrance collapsed. The room was then plunged into darkness, with the only sounds being the groups heavy breathing.

Harry shivered absently, as the cold from his dive, and the blood from the Kraken had soaked him through. His senses told him that the two men were in much the same position, and he was also aware of the curious looks he was being given from the other members of the fellowship.

"We now have but one choice." Announced Gandalf softly, as he illuminated the mine using a crystal on his staff. Harry reached into his pouch, and brought out chain which had a glass pendant attached to it. Trapped within the glass was Hermione's patented blue-bell flames. He attached the chain around his neck, bringing eerie blue light into the mine. The members of the fellowship was immensely curious as to this object, but they were content to keep their opinions to themselves. The group then began to leave the area they were in, following Gandalf as he walked through the mines. Harry took up the rear, his senses alert to anything that could follow them. He had to stare down the pair of humans into walking in front of him, as the pair seemed to believe that only the most experienced should walk at the back.

"We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs, in the deep places of the world. Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

The darkness was of the all-consuming kind, and if it wasn't for Harry's age and experience, he would find it somewhat daunting. But, he had faced things which were on par with such a darkness in his long life, and contented himself in admiring the mithril rocks, and watching the fellowship interact. The hobbits, as curious creatures, were content to listen to Gimli and Legolas' talks of their people, Frodo in particular seemed to be enthralled, no doubt due to his uncle's own stories. They listened with rapt interest to Boromir's tales of Gondor, which was the most powerful nation in Middle-Earth, discounting Aurum though. At this, Harry smiled to himself. They fellowship as a whole had yet to ask any burning questions of his own people, and he thought that that was down to Gandalf's almost differential treatment of him. Gandalf was their guide, their leader. Harry didn't come across as a follower though, and on a subconscious level this appeared to confuse the fellowship as a whole. But, this confusion wasn't to last.

"I have no memory of this place." Murmured Gandalf, when faced with three doorways to choose from. Harry frowned at his friend, as he sat himself down in the makeshift camp, as they waited for the wizard to remember. Time had passed, and as a whole, the fellowship appeared to be resting well.

"I have always said that your memory would be your downfall, Gandalf." Said Harry after some time, his eyes closed as he absently flicked the mirror that was around his neck, feeling the warm and comforting feelings of home from it.

"And I have never once doubted you for it." Replied Gandalf, his tone amused. Harry chuckled to himself, before pausing as he felt the mirror heat up. A frowned to himself, before sitting up straight, and getting the attention of the other members of the fellowship.

"_Harry?" _came the voice from the mirror, startling the members of the fellowship.

"_Teddy? What is the problem?" _asked Harry, replying in English, a language that was not spoken in Middle-Earth.

"_Where are you?" _

"_We are in Moria, have been for three days, I think. It is hard to keep track of here. What has happened?" _

"_I am with the Ents, and I am about to head out to Minas Tirith to meet Hermione. Saruman is making an army, a cross between Orc and Goblin it appears. Far stronger than any other army. He calls them Uruk-Hai."_

"_How many has he made?"_

"_A few hundred at the moment, but at the rate they are being made, it will not be long before there are many thousand. We didn't account for this, no one did."_

"_What is being done?" _

"_Ron has dispatched the army from Bellum. Half is travelling south by boat, the other half is travelling south by horseback. The cavalry is staying North for the moment. But, Luna has seen something."_

"_Why didn't she inform me?" _

"_She didn't want to worry you. The Dark Lord has found the old scripture books, written by the __**Others. **__It has within the ancient rituals that were recovered from the Department of Mysteries, including many that Voldemort used. Ones to regain, or improve his body. We believe that he intends to try something new this time round. She urged you to contact Ron before the army left."_

"_I will." _

Teddy ended the contact, and Harry renewed it before the others could interrupt.

"_Ron."_

"_Harry. Teddy got to you then? Good. I am going to be riding down with the Phoenix battalion. Neville is going by sea. Everyone else is remaining here."_

"_Have you heard about the scriptures?"_

"_No."_

"_Sauron has them. Books detailing how to go about regaining a body, everything. He doesn't need to regain the ring now, aside from keeping his immortality. The scripts also go on about how to create multiple horcruxes. If he does this…it will ruin everything."_

"_Then the ring needs to be destroyed before he does."_

"_I need you to awaken everyone. We are going to need everyone for this. They need to start heading South as soon as possible. Send Bill and Fleur down once Bill as awoken. They need to ward two areas of the army to station at, within easy striking distance of Rohan, Gondor and Mordor. I shall let you pick the areas. It needs to be done though. Albus can hold down the fort while everyone goes, with Scorpius and Rose's help. We are going to need everyone else down here though."_

"_I shall pass on the messages. I think Ginny will be on her way down. Andromeda and Draco are going too, between the three of you, you should be able to combat the dark rituals. Cho will remain up here with the cavalry until they are called down. Aside from that, we shall have emptied Aurum of us all within the next week."_

"_Good. I shall see you soon."_

"_Aye."_

Harry put the mirror away, and looked up to see eight curious looks directed at him.

"Whom were you just speaking to?" asked Boromir.

"One of our spies was giving me a report, and I was passing it on, like a relay." Said Harry, sharing a brief look with Gandalf. "He was warning us of Saruman's creations. The wizard has called them Uruk-Hai. Orc and Goblin cross-bred creatures. He wants us to be on the look out for them."

"How is such a thing possible?" questioned Aragorn, curious. "It reminds me a lot of a palantir."

"Nothing like one. It is just a method of speaking at long distances. It is possible by magic." He caught that doubtful looks, and grinned. "Surely you have not heard the rumors of the Riders of the North? Their ability to do magic? Albeit, done is a very different way to our friend here." He bowed his head to Gandalf. "This is how by pendant was made. It is quite literally, fire that is trapped within glass. Keeps me quite warm as well."

The hobbits looked curious, and Pippin sat himself down next to Harry, and grinned at him.

"Do you have pipeweed up there? Merry said that you wouldn't because it is cold."

"Once you get past the frozen wastes, it is no longer cold. In fact, Aurum borders on coast, with spectacular beaches and harbors. During the Summer months, it can get quite warm. But pipeweed? I have not the taste for it, little one. Some of my friends do, but it doesn't have the same effect on us as it does you. Our bodies are too different."

"Different?" said Merry, appearing at Pippin's otherside.

"Aye. Different. Our land thrives off of magic. Over time, our bodies have changed in response to the magic that is within our environment. We are, in a way, a completely different race to any others on Middle-Earth. We look like humans, but we are not. Some of our number never age. Haven't for over ten thousand years. Others age slowly. We have found that over time, the length of lives has decreased to a few hundred years in the latest generations, rather than that of the never changing, like that of the Council."

"Yet, you are not of Elven kind. This is extraordinary." Murmured Boromir, frowning. "I assume that Lady Hermione and Luna are of this Council?"

"Yes. The two Ladies, as well as perhaps two dozen more, are all that remains of the original group that traveled to these shores, blessed with immortality. They cannot be killed by magic or blades."

"Can you do magic?" asked Pippin excitedly, butting in before Boromir could raise another question.

"I can." Replied Harry, raising a fist in the air, and conjuring fire in the palm of his hand, causing the two inquisitive hobbits' eyes to widen. Both Sam and Frodo stepped closer, as Gandalf was smiling at the scene that was before him. "My magic is different to that of the Istari. Though, the two have never been tested against one another in open war before. I am quite looking forward to it at the moment. Saruman will be a great opponent."

"You do not fear him? The most powerful of the Istari?" asked Legolas, his all-seeing eyes boring into Harry.

"No, I do not. There is little things that I fear in this world, and a traitorous wizard is nowhere near the top of the list. Saruman knows of the magic that the mages of Aurum wield. We taught him some in fact, when he came to us. We educated him in various ways of mixing the materials that the ground could offer us, in order to create weapons and the like. The subject fascinated him. In return, we promised to never use our magic to participate in War. It would provide an unfair advantage. This is, unknown to most, one of the rules that the Istari have to follow. They are here to guide, not to fight. Saruman is currently breaking this rule of the Istari."

"Are you not breaking your promise then?" questioned Frodo.

"Until Saruman uses what it was that we taught him, we cannot use our magic within battle. We swore on our magic that we would not, so the promise must be upheld."

A silence echoed throughout the mines, until Gandalf cleared his throat, standing up and gesturing to a passageway.

"Oh! It's that way!"

Harry nodded his head at his friend in thanks, as the old wizard suddenly remembered the way to go. He followed from the back as the others walked through the tunnel, murmuring to one another about the wizard, whom Harry could see explaining to Merry that he didn't remember the way, but merely the smell.

"Have you ever met the High Lord?" asked Boromir, as he walked in front of Harry, with Aragorn a little further ahead with Gimli.

"I have." Replied Harry, shooting a curious glance at the man. "Why so interested?"

"The stories of the Master of Death are many. I am wondering how many of them are true."

"Tell me of these stories some time, and I shall answer your questions. I have no doubt that the High Lord is nothing but a fairytale down here in these lands. That most believe him to be nothing more than a legend, that has been exaggerated by the bards of old. Perhaps I can set this street for you, hm? You to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. I can tell that you are listening."

"One cannot help but to. Very few ever travel to the lands you hail from, so any stories that we hear tend to be lies." Answered Aragorn.

"You grew up in Rivendell, I am sure the stories you heard there were not all lies." Stated Harry with a raised eyebrow, as they exited the tunnel. Gandalf then spoke, interrupting them.

"Let me risk a little more light." His staff brightened, lighting up the tall pillars, and grand arches that stretched out for as far as the eye could see. "Behold: the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

Harry smiled, content for the moment, as he observed the looks of awe that were on the members of the fellowship's faces. He himself had visited Moria a handful of times before, and the city was not new to him, and after living in Dux Ducis for so long, he had grown used to such splendor.

"Now there's an eye opener and no mistake." Muttered Sam, as his eyes scanned the hall in wonder.

Harry smiled softly, until his emerald eyes focused on the ray of light he could see at the far end. His heart clenched, as he realized what it was for. Gimli appeared to have noticed it too, as he cried out in alarm, and ran towards the room the light was in. Harry followed, ignoring Gandalf's shout for them both to come back. He entered the room after Gimli, to see the dwarf sobbing over a tomb. Harry went forwards and rested a hand on it's surface.

He heard the others enter the room, and observe the mourning dwarf in silence. Around the room dotted various bodies, all died for the protection of the tomb. Harry watched as Boromir laid a hand on Gimli's shoulder, as Gandalf went towards a book one of the bodies carried.

"'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.'" Translated Harry, reading the runes on the tomb. "Just as it was rumored."

Harry looked up at Gimli, who was still wailing to himself. He heard Legolas murmur to Aragorn softly.

"We cannot linger!"

"'They have taken the bridge…and the second hall.'" Read Gandalf, gaining everyone's attention, and Gimli's silence. "'We have barred the gates…but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums...drums…in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark."

The silence was palpable, and Harry could see Pippin moving for something out of the corner of his eye.

"We cannot get out…They are coming." An uncomfortable silence filled the room, which was interrupted by the sounds of something falling down a hall. Everyone whirled around to stare at Pippin, who looked sheepish. Then, the looks turned into horror, as the rest of the body fell down into the hall, including a chain and a bucket. The resounding crash echoed throughout the mine.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" shouted Gandalf, snatching his hat and staff from Pippin in anger.

The rest of the Fellowship had relaxed, but Harry could sense a static in the air. The magic in the air was trying to warn him of something. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, and Harry felt the magic move, as vibrations echoed throughout the mine, well before the rest of the Fellowship. Drums, echoing throughout the mine.

Everyone whirled around, trying to work out where the drums were coming from. Sam pointed towards Frodo's sword, Sting, which was glowing blue.

"Orcs." Hissed Legolas, as Boromir ran towards the door to check. Arrow flung themselves into the door, and Harry watched as Gimli jumped onto the tomb, readying his axes. Harry then gatherd weapons and flung them towards where Boromir and Aragorn were blocking the door. Gandalf was gathering the hobbits towards one side of the hall, each of them had their weapons out.

"They have a cave troll." Said Boromir, his voice dry and sarcastic as he said it.

Harry reached into his pouch, and drew a pair of slightly curved blades, about a foot and half long, which had a greater reach than those that were strapped to his back. He held them both loosely to his sides, as Boromir drew his sword and readied his shield, and the two archers readied their bows.

"Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" hissed Gimli, clutching an axe in each hand.

The orcs broke through the door slightly, and Legolas shot it immediately, Aragorn followed a second later. The two carried on doing that, until they managed to break down the doors. Immediately, Aragorn drew his blade, and join Boromir in slashing down the orcs. Gimli began to slice them using his axe, while Legolas drew his twin blades to cut them down.

Harry jumped into the fray, slicing the enemies without abandon, settling himself in the mix of things, in order to bring down the majority of enemies with little harm to himself. He dimly noted that Gandalf and the hobbits had joined the fray, and he wished them well. He sliced off an orc's head with a single slash of his sword, and paused as a cave troll smashed it way into the room. It was lead there by its trainers most likely, and Harry immediately set on after them, even as the Fellowship got over their shock. Harry brought down the orcs that were controlling the troll, before continuing to slay the orcs. He saw Sam escape the troll, with the help of Aragorn and Boromir who were pulling the chains. Legolas continued to shoot the troll which appeared to refuse to be brought down.

The next time Harry had a break from slaying orc, he could see that the troll appeared to have cornered one of the hobbits, and at a second glance, it was Frodo. His eyes widened, as his heart ran cold. Immediately, he leapt towards where Frodo was, and intercepted the mace that was aimed at Frodo. The mace hit him hard, causing him to smash into the wall. Where normally a man would die from the blow, Harry got up in time to see the troll thrust a spear into Frodo. Harry watched as the Fellowship, in anger at their friend's apparent death, began to fight the troll.

Harry crouched down besides Frodo, and pulled the spear out. He could see the glitter of mithril beneath the shirt that Frodo wore, and allowed the hobbit to regain his breath.

"You are full of surprises, my little friend." Murmured Harry, causing Frodo to look up at him in alarm.

"I thought you were dead!" said Frodo, stunned.

"We are both a surprise to one another, my friend. We are both obviously made of stronger stuff than what a cave troll could overcome, hm?" He held out a hand, and helped the hobbit up.

The two walked around the pillar, just in time to see the cave troll perish.

"Frodo?" called Sam weakly, staring in shock at the alive-Hobbit.

"You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a wild boar!" announced Aragorn, shocked.

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye." Said Gandalf, a smile on his face, as Frodo revealed his mithril shirt. Harry however, was sensing what the magic in the air was revealing. More orc were on their way.

"We must go. More are coming." Ordered Harry, as he tied the sheaths to the two swords to his waist.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

They all ran from the room, out into the chamber, where orcs followed them as they ran towards where the bridge was. Eventually, orcs surrounded them on all sides, and Fellowship went into a circle. Harry had his swords pointed directly at the nearest orc, ready to kill them, when he felt the magic suddenly change. Become fiercer, warning him of a powerful enemy. He turned in time to see a fiery light appear at one side of the hall, and the orcs fled in terror.

"What is this new devilry?" hissed Boromir.

Harry recognized it. The magic, the essence it gave off. It was all Morgoth, the Ainur that had defected and created the ever-lasting Winter that existed on the lands South of Aurum. The Ainur who had never dared enter Aurum, because he knew what would happen if he dared. That Harry himself would have drove him out, as their magic was too different for the Ainur to have much of a chance. The Balrog, however, was not as powerful as Morgoth, but something told him that he wouldn't be fighting the Balrog today.

"A Balrog— a demon of the ancient world." Answered Harry, narrowing his eyes on he light, waiting for the creature to form.

A growling echoed through the hall, and Harry could see Legolas take an involuntary step back. The elf obviously had full knowledge of what the creature was.

"This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" ordered Gandalf, and they all ran towards where the bridge lied, Harry and Gandalf bringing up the rear. "Quickly."

Harry shared a look with the wizard, who nodded his head in acknowledgement. The wizard knew that his own fate was to be decided today, and he didn't want Harry to interfere, that much was obvious. They ran down tunnels, and Legolas stopped Boromir from falling in. Harry sprinted down the next set of stairs, leading the way to the bridge. He knew that if he remained at the back, he wouldn't be able to help himself but to fight. So he had to keep on going. He heard Gandalf roar something, and could pick up the last of it.

"Swords are no more use here."

But still, Harry touched his left forearm, where the holster that held the most powerful foci to have existed resided. He knew that if he drew the wand, then he would but a halt in fates plans for Gandalf, and couldn't bring himself to act. Even though he knew how much whatever were to happen to Gandalf, would hurt the rest of the Fellowship, he knew that he couldn't.

Harry ran down the stairs, until he reached a gap. Legolas carried on running, leaping across the gap with ease. Harry remained on that side, prepared to help the others across the gap. He could hear the Balrog growling as it approached, and the magic in the air had become much harsher and more pressurized, as though it wanted him to act as well. Gandalf jumped across the gap, and Legolas caught him. The distant sounds of arrows being shot reached Harry, and he managed to slice one before it hit him in the chest.

Boromir went next, leaping across with Merry and Pippin at the same time. Gimli jumped across himself, having to be kept up by Legolas, who grabbed onto his beard. Harry jumped back as the rocks under his feet crumbled, as Aragorn and Frodo did the same. He walked up the steps, watching where he could sense the Balrog to be with narrowed eyes.

The foundations of the stairway became unsteady, and Aragorn and Frodo leant forward, and Harry copied them, as the stairs began to tilt towards where Legolas was waiting to catch them. Frodo and Aragorn slid onto the stairs into their waiting arms, while Harry jumped onto them just as the stairs fell, swinging himself onto the stairs with the dexterity of an elf. They continued to run down the stairs, Gandalf leading the way, and Harry once again bringing up the rear.

Flames were behind him, as the Balrog's roars continued to echo throughout the halls. It took an almost inconcieveable amount of self-control to not turn around on fight. But this was Gandalf's fight, not his own. They reached the bridge, where they had to get across one at a time.

"Over the bridge! Fly!"

One by one, the Fellowship cross the bridge, Gandalf crossing last and remaining in the middle of the bridge. Harry paused at the end, backing up slowly, watching what was about to happen with concerned eyes. He could feel the confusion the Fellowship directed towards Gandalf, no doubt they thought that once they fled the cave, the Balrog would not follow. But both Gandalf and he knew differently.

"You cannot pass!"

The Balrog was now full visible, its body wreathed in flames, as it carried its whip in its hands, ready and prepared to fight the wizard. Gandalf raised his staff, concentrating on the Balrog with intensity. Harry felt Gandalf's own magic begin to rise, and had to step back slightly as his ears popped at the sheer amount of magic that was present. His skin felt as though it was electrically charged because of it.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!"

Gandalf's magic could now be seen surrounding him, and lit the whole bridge.

"The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!"

The Balrog attacked Gandalf, who parried the blow, to the surprise of those behind him. No doubt, on some level, they didn't believe the friendly Gandalf to be capable of such a thing.

"Go back to the Shadow!"

Harry sensed Gandalf summoning his last reserves of magic, and Harry leaked out some of his own, causing the white light the wizard glowed, to have a tinge of green in, to the further surprise of those behind Harry. Harry saw the wizard nod his head in thanks, as he readied his staff once more.

"YOU...SHALL NOT...PASS!" roared Gandalf, striking the ground of the bridge with his staff, causing a flash of magic to appear. The Balrog attempted to cross the bridge, which broke beneath its feet, causing it to fall down into the abyss. Gandalf sighed in relief, and was half turned when Harry sensed it. The Balrog wasn't quite finished yet. The whip came up and wrapped around his ankle, pulling him down with the Balrog. Gandalf gripped the bridge, but he wouldn't be able to hold on for long.

"Gandalf!" cried Frodo, rushing forwards. Boromir stopped him, and Harry stopped Aragorn from doing the same.

"Fly, you fools!"

The wizard let go, and fell down into the depths of Moria, following the Balrog. Harry's stomach clenched, even as he forced Aragorn to turn around, and leave Moria, as the rest of the Fellowship left as well. The light from the outside was an extreme contrast to the darkness of Moria. Harry's eyes got used to the light, and he could see the members of the Fellowship mourning. Merry and Pippin were sobbing, as was Sam. Boromir was restraining Gimli, who appeared to be both angry and upset. Legolas was hard to face, as elves were unable to deal with death like the mortals, and his face was more solemn than anything. Aragorn, however, appeared to be ready to keep moving. Harry recognized this as his way of coping, and let the man be able to do this.

"Legolas, get them up."

Harry's eyes moved over the group, to where he could see Frodo, in the distance. The hobbit was walking away, in the direction of Lothlorien. Harry didn't have to see his face to know that the hobbit would be the most upset of the group. It was obvious in his stance, that the quest that they had set out on, would not be without casualties. Gandalf was the first one it seemed.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" pleaded Boromir.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien." Announced Harry, his voice toneless, and his expression serious. To the shock of the fellowship, there was not an ounce of sorrow on it, but Harry knew that this would not be the last to be seen of Gandalf. "Come, we must leave."

Harry watched as the others got the hobbits up, and turned back to where Frodo stood. The hobbit was still walking, moving slowly, as though he was under a great burden. Although the burden could not be sensed or measured, Harry felt as though he could see the burden.

"Frodo!" called Aragorn, as he rushed towards the hobbit. It was then that Harry got to see Frodo's expression. His face reflected what the rest of the fellowship were feeling. Sorrow, despair, sadness. The feeling of great loss touched all of them, but seeing them upon the hobbit's face appeared to magnify the feeling in everyone.

"Lets head to the woods." Stated Harry, as he walked began to step over the rocks.

* * *

The woods of Lothlorien were vast. The trees were old, large and almost majestic looking. Those who lived within them, however, were majestic beyond comparison. Harry had visited the realm of the Lady Galadriel many times, and she to his own realm. The two were friends, as aside from the Ents of Fanghorn forest, she was perhaps the eldest being in Middle-Earth. She was the most powerful elf, due to both Nenya, her ring, but also her elven abilities. These abilities had only grown over time, making her a useful ally. But both Galadriel and himself considered themselves more as friends than anything else. Each of the members of the Council in Aurum were friends with the Elf Queen, although she was younger than them.

As they stepped into the lines of trees, Harry felt as though they were safe. He knew that the forest perimeter was well guarded, and the chance of them being attacked was almost non-existent. It would be a welcomed peace, after being on edge for so long in the mines.

"Stay close, young Hobbits! They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her, fall under her spell." Murmured Gimli, casting a wary glance to his surroundings. The hobbits copied this movement, and Harry felt the stirrings of amusement creep up into his system. He looked towards Aragorn and Legolas, who he knew had met the Lady before, but neither of them appeared willing to correct the dwarf.

He sensed another mind close, his magic echoed around him informing him of the presence. It was Galadriel. He saw Frodo stiffen, and knew what the Lady was up to.

'_Do not be too harsh on him, my Lady.' _He whispered with his mind, letting it lie upon the strings of magic that lay about he area, and felt the Lady pick up on it.

"Well, here is one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

The arrows appeared out of nowhere, pointing towards the Fellowship. Legolas brought his own out, and had it focused on the closest elf with unerring accuracy.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." Said the leader, whom Harry immediately recognized as Haldir. Both Legolas and Aragorn appeared to recognize the elf as well.

They were led through the trees, and up onto a talon, where the elves gathered them all. Harry watched all of this with cautious gazes, making sure they didn't spend to much time concentrating on Frodo, and what he carried. He had no doubt that the elves knew precisely all about the Fellowship and the ring-bearer.

"_Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil_." Said Haldir in Elfish.

"_Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien."_ Replied Legolas in kind.

"_Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us." _Continued Haldir, and Aragorn nodded to him.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can also understand!" grumbled Gimli.

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days." Replied Haldir haughtily.

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!" hissed Gimli.

"That was not so courteous." Murmured Aragorn to a smug looking Gimli. Harry chuckled under his breath at the dwarf. He had guts. Harry watched as Haldir's gaze focused on Frodo, and frowned to himself.

"You bring great evil with you. You can go no further." Announced Haldir, looking towards Aragorn in defiance.

Harry had had enough.

"_Under whose authority do you order this?" _asked Harry in English, which he knew Haldir understood due to his numerous visits to Aurum, where not everyone spoke Westron. "_Lady Galadriel is aware of our arrival, and I know she offers us sanctuary. She is also aware of what we carry with us. Is it merely your own avoidance of what we bring here, as to why you refuse us sanctuary, Haldir of Lorien?"_

The others watched as Harry stood and approached Haldir, standing toe to toe with the elf. To the others, it may have been a shock. Harry was usually quiet, joking with the others, and light hearted. Only when it came down to it, did his manner become aggressive. But the side they were seeing now was entirely different.

"_The ring cannot come into our borders. It isn't safe for us."_

"_You fear it will take you over, Haldir? That you do not have the self control needed to keep the rings seductive qualities at bay? Are you so full of pride to not admit your own mistakes?"_

"_It cannot stay here. You must continue onto your journey elsewhere."_

_"No. We need to rest. In a safe haven. Unless you have good reason in which to oppose us, we shall continue from here to Caras Galadhon, I know the way well enough myself. Do not suppose, Elf, that you have the right to tell me what I can and cannot do. Although my comrades do not know of my identity, you do. You also know what I am capable of. Do not make me threaten our way into the forest, for it shall not be present."_

Harry held his hand up, and the ring which was on his ring caught light. He did it in a casual way, so it did not seem purposeful. But Harry saw Haldir's eyes stray to the ring, the ring which had an emblem on, with a stone set in the middle. Harry knew that Haldir was aware of what the ring was capable of doing, and what it represented. All elves feared death in one manner or another. Their immortality made them grow used to such a life, and elves were by nature afraid of what his status represented.

"You may have sanctuary." Said Haldir in Westron, and nodding his head and going into a bow before Harry, before stalking off. Harry watched him go with calculating eyes, ignoring the surprised expressions on the Fellowship's faces. This was not the first, or last time, that they would be so surprised.

* * *

That is chapter three! Hope everyone enjoyed it enough to review :)

Any questions ask away!

Lots of love

Morrigu-chan x


	4. Arrow Through The Heart

**A/N: **If I could apologise for the wait for this chapter, I would. Although its not as long a wait as there is for my other stories, this is one story that should have regular updates. Sadly, I have found that a writer cannot write if they don't have the room or ability to think.

I mean this in a literal sense. Over the past few months, since March I have been unable to write. The 2 updates that I did during April were from mostly-complete chapters that were on my hard drive, but since then I have barely written anything.

I would like to thank everyone for their reviews, I shall reply to them all in due time. So if you are reading this and I haven't replied, check your inbox.

I am a firm believer that life has its ups and downs, and I should have really prepared, after all my ranting and raving that I got into my university (where there was a 1 in 25 chance of me getting in), for when the downer was going to happen. Obviously, I was unprepared, and my strength of mind has suffered for it over the past few months.

I guess I learned a valuable lesson, one that I hope everyone on here both does and does not have to learn. Life is hard at times, especially when it concerns those that are close to you and makes you doubt the very person you are, and the foundations of all your understanding in life. But in the end, maybe there is a chance that this was meant to happen, and that maybe you would be a better person for going through all of that?

Sorry for the long, philosophical rant or whatever. Enjoy this chapter people. Plot is now forming, and I have completed the Fellowship, as promised, with this chapter. Please review, they cheer me up.

Any spelling/grammar mistakes, have nor been checked. Anything that looks like I have spelt slightly wrong, or typed wrong, check your keyboard to see what I mean. I think you should all be grateful that I have got this out to you, and appreciate that I will go back and check at a later time.

**Summary: **The World was destroyed. All that remained of it is a scattered group of wizarding refugees, whose leader is one Harry Potter. They sought refuge in the lands of Middle-Earth, and for thousands of years, they grew in number, becoming a race far greater than anything else. But darkness is upon them. Darkness which Sauron pales in comparison.

* * *

**Rings and True Immortality**

**Chapter IV: Arrow Through The Heart**

**By The Morrigu**

**

* * *

**

_'You gave us some place to go.  
I never said thank you for that.  
I thought I might get one more chance.  
What would you think of me now,  
So lucky, so strong, so proud?  
I never said thank you for that,  
Now I'll never have a chance.  
May angels lead you in.  
Hear you me my friends.  
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.  
May angels lead you in.  
So what would you think of me now?'  
**- 'Hear You Me' by Jimmy Eat World.**_

The woods of Lothlorien could only be described as majestic and elegant. Whereas Fanghorn was often thought to be cursed, the woods that hid the Elvish Kingdom were such a contrast to the home of the Ents. As the elves guided them through the woods, Harry began to compare the familiar sights he could see with what had been there so many centuries earlier. It had been quite some time since he had last lain eyes on the Lady of the Wood. Ever since she had come to visit Dux Ducis not long after the first defeat of Sauron, just as he had awoken from his sleep at the time. It was some time before that since had had last seen her, though they had stayed in contact through the use of enchanted mirrors, one of which had been gifted to the Elf Queen and her consort some seven thousand years earlier.

"Caras Galadhon...the heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." Announced Haldir to the group, as they stood at the top of a cliff, overlooking the sights below. From here, they could see what was the centre of Lothlorien, where the trees appeared to reach the skies and were ageless. Reflecting their occupants nature with their ageless characteristics.

They soon moved on, making their way towards the centre of the woods. The nearer they got, the more majestic the talons appeared to be. The elves that lived in these areas of the woods were the nobles of Lothlorien. Though, there were not as many as there used to be, Harry noted. He reasoned that this must be due to the large numbers of elves leaving for the Grey Havens. The sun had set by now, and their pathway was lit by small mystical lights, that led them through the winding pathways through the great towering trees, that housed the heart of Elvendom. Pathways appears, winding around the trees, leading to the homes that were seated amongst the stars. Harry took the time to observe the other members of the Fellowship, and their reactions to the sight that was the realm of Lady Galadriel. The hobbits appeared to be in awe of the area around them, staring up at the towering trees in wonder, while Gimli seemed determined to be stoic as a way of honouring his own race. Boromir, was harder to read. He appeared to be going through some internal struggle, and not paying much attention to what was going on in the real world. Both Aragorn and Legolas, he knew, had been to these woods before.

They began to ascend what appeared to be the largest of the trees, with the widest winding pathway. Harry knew that the pathway led to the palace that housed the Lord and Lady of the Wood. The palace itself was a work of art, demonstrating the grandeur and mystic that the elves were famous for, while blending seamlessly into the trees themselves. Many times, he had visited these woods. So many times, that he even had his own room prepared within the woods. A small smile appeared on his face in memory, as these woods had always felt like a second home to him. He and Galadriel had always had a connection, both sharing a great responsibility, each a ring bearer in their own way. Galadriel was the only being outside of Aurum that knew their entire true origins. They reached the top, and Haldir stood to one side, presenting them to the individuals at the top of the steps. Harry made sure that he was at the back of the group, allowing the others to take in the forms of some of the eldest beings in Middle-Earth.

The Fellowship appeared to be in awe of the pair, while Aragorn saluted the pair reverently. Celeborn stepped forwards, allowing Galadriel to examine the group with little notice.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, yet ten there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf?" enquired Celeborn, his eyes flicking from each of the members, before focusing on Aragorn. Galadriel was focusing on Aragorn as well, meeting his eyes, before moving off, Celeborn doing the same. "For I much desire to speak with him...I can no longer see him from afar."

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land." Murmured Galadriel, her voice carrying a wispy quality, as she looked at Aragorn intently once again. "He has fallen into shadow."

"He was taken by a demon of Morgoth, a balrog." Announced Harry, causing Celeborn's eyes to narrow on his own, shock lining his face for a second before smoothening out into apathy, it happened so quickly that Harry doubted any of the others saw it.

"For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Whispered Legolas quietly, his eyes downcast, displaying none of the characteristics of the proud Elvish Prince. Galadriel's face softened at both his words, and the dejected expression on Gimli's face. She stepped forwards so that she was closer to the Fellowship, before speaking once more.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose. Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin." Her voice held a soothing quality, to calm the nerves of the other members of the Fellowship. Her eyes then began to sweep over the other members of the Fellowship, as she continued her speech. "For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." announced Celeborn plainly, while Harry's eyes bore into the elf's head. He understand the trick that the Elven Lord was playing. In order to separate the weak heartened of the group, from those who were far stronger. From the corner of his eyes, Harry could see the doubt clouding Boromir's gaze.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true." Galadriel shot a warm smile at Sam, who looked back at her unsurely. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

Harry stood back, and watched as the others walked down the path they came, ready to sleep beneath the roots of the great trees of Lorien. Harry remained behind, safe in the knowledge the other members of the group were deep within their thoughts to notice his absence. Once they had disappeared from sight, Harry stepped towards his friends, offering them each a casual bow, which they returned.

"Hermione tells us that you are keeping your identity a secret?" said Celeborn, as the three of them turned towards the balcony behind them, where their conversation would be more private. They sat on cushioned seats, in order to remain comfortable.

"She stopped here on her way to Minas Tirith then? Good." stated Harry with a smile, before continuing. "Yes, I fear that tales of my title have spread far and wide. I am nothing but a fairytale to be told to children and elflings in order to make them sleep at night. As sad, but true fact. If I informed them of my true status, I get the feeling that they would be far warier of me. Besides, I enjoy being 'Just Harry', even if it will only last these few months."

"You do realise that when they do discover who you are, there will be some serious problems." said Celeborn pointedly.

"Yet, I think that I would have gained their trust by then, in order for them to not be fearful of what I represent. Being the supposed 'Master of Death' is not something that inspires trust in others."

"No, I suppose not." answered Galadriel, a light smile on her otherworldly face. "What are your opinions on Gandalf?"

"He knew what he was doing. He refused my offer of help, knowing that it was his time. I can't help but think that no matter how much hardship this causes us as a whole, this event will be beneficial to Middle-Earth. Maybe the end of Saruman." answered Harry, as he leant back in his seat. He then paused, as a thought occurred to him. "I have been in contact with the others, and we are sending our armies south. Events are happening which are beyond our control. I am sure that you recall me telling you both of a number of our group who departed from us, and disappeared within the societies down here? What I didn't tell you is that some left with the knowledge of the darkest of our magical arts. One particular piece of magic can prevent true death from ever occurring, by anchoring a persons essence to this existence. We fear Sauron may have gotten his hands on this, by recruiting one of those who left our fold. This type of magic is dangerous, and also means that with the destruction of the ring, Sauron may not be vanquished."

"You have not spoke of this with the Fellowship then?" asked Celeborn, his face drawn in sorrow.

"No. I did not wish to dampen their hopes." replied Harry.

"This anchor, sounds very similar to the One Ring though." murmured Galadriel, her tone questioning.

"Horcruxes, these anchors, are items which contains a persons essence. These items, could be anything, but it requires a great deal of magic and focus to create them. However, the difference between making one, and making several, is distinct. The method of making one, is vastly different to making several. The First Horcrux, will always be the most powerful. The only one capable of conscious thought and action. The only one with the ability to learn by what it senses around it. You are correct in your assumption, that the One Ring is a Horcrux. It is its ability to have conscious thought and action, that allows it to control all the other Rings of Power."

"All except one." said Celeborn, glancing down at a Harry's hands that were placed in his lap.

"This, isn't really a Ring of Power." said Harry, holding up the his hand, looking at the golden ring which was on his finger. "Although which each Horcrux made, the power and control each one has diminishes, it still poses the problem of keeping Sauron tied to this existence. If he manages to make another, which will be incredibly difficult for him because of the sheer difference in our types of magic, then one of us will be able to sense it. Luna will be on the lookout for any changes that happen. She will sense when it happens, just as how she cans sense the Ring at all times."

"So we can prepare for that eventuality then?"

"Yes, we will be able to."

Harry then stood, offering the two a bow.

"I should leave, before they begin to question by long absence." He turned to go, before Galadriel called after him.

"Who taught Sauron how to make the First Horcrux?" asked Galadriel.

"That, I really cannot say."

* * *

"_My Lord." called a guard, as he approached Harry as he sat with some of the threstrals upon one of the towers of the Aurum, the tower the threstrals called home. _

"_Yes?" replied Harry, craning his neck around to see one of the newer guards, who was still unused to the presence of those of the Council, the Forever Immortals, and thus the guard remained formal. Whereas those who had been guards for decades, even centuries in some cases, had developed an ease with them. It was to these guards, that Harry and the others had developed a camraderie with, rather than those who saw them for their titles and abilities, rather than them as people. _

"_A man from the South has journeyed here, requesting your presence." announced the guard stiffly. _

"_Really? I was requested specifically? Or is it just a general matter that one of the others can deal with?" stated Harry airily, as he hauled himself up from where he sat with the creatures, giving one an absent pat on the head, which the guard found odd because he could not see them. In fact, there were few people in Aurum who could see them, it was hard to kill anyone in Aurum, and there were very few battles with other lands. Due to this, only a small percentage of the population could see the creatures that many of the Council were so fond of. _

"_No sire, it was a request for you specifically. But they did not ask for a meeting with the High Lord, but with a Mister Black. We were confused initially, because there are none with the name of Black residing in the city, or anywhere else for that matter. That was until the man gave us a description, and well, we knew it was you. Sir."_

_Harry raised a curious eyebrow, before walking towards the guard, and gesturing so that they could walk together. _

"_Now this is interesting. I go by Mister Black on occasions, as it is an alternate name I go by. During the times I am absent from our lands, I have journeyed the Lands to the South by the name 'Mister Harrison Black', and made many acquaintances. I assume this is one of them. Or someone who has heard of me. I assume the man is in the receiving room of the main tower?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_I shall go and receive him then. I do hope this is an interesting conversation." said Harry brightly, before disapparating right where he stood, to the surprise of the guard who jumped back in alarm, staring at the empty space where Harry once stood._

_

* * *

_

As Harry entered the camp, he could hear the sounds of elves singing, their voices mournful. He realised that it was about Gandalf, as the elves expressed the great loss that they felt. He heard Sam muttering to Merry just a few metres away about the topic.

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them."

He chuckled quietly to himself, as he found an area to rest in himself, as he got a few blankets and a pillow that the elves had given them.

"The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder...silver showers…came falling like a...rain of flowers…" rhymed Sam loudly, before sitting down suddenly, frowning to himself. "Oh, that doesn't do they justice by a long road."

"I am sure he would have appreciated it just the same." said Harry, calling their attention to him as he sat at the base of the trees, laying out his blankets.

"Where did you come from?" asked Frodo, who appeared to be the only one to notice his absence. Harry wasn't surprised by this fact, but welcomed it. As the Ring Bearer, he had to be observant.

"I was just having a few more words with Haldir and the other members of the guard, that is all. Just to make sure that there are no hard feelings." replied Harry, offering them a smile, before rolling his eyes when he heard Gimli snore from not so far away. Aragorn swatted the dwarf on the head, before walking to where a fountain was, where he could see Boromir looking pensive. He was busy watching the two of them conversing in quiet tones, that he missed Pippin's question.

"What was that?" asked Harry, as he focused his attentions on the young hobbit.

"What did you say to the elves?" questioned Pippin curiously.

"I merely reminded them of their duties to the Lady Galadriel. Haldir was refusing us entry due to his own decision, interfering with the Lady Galadriel's offer of sanctuary to us. I reminded him of this fact."

"How is it that he knew your language. I have never heard it spoken before." asked Frodo, as he came out of the shadows.

"The Lord and Lady of these Woods are regular visitors of Aurum. Haldir has accompanied them on a number of occasions. To be able to speak our language fluently is a requirement in our land, where most people can only speak it."

"Is that how you know him so well?" asked Aragorn, as he approached with Boromir trailing behind him.

"It is. We ran into each other numerous times over the past few thousand years, so we are acquaintances at best though. Each of us conducting our duties. Myself when we visit here with the Council, and he when he visits Aurum with the Lord and Lady."

"How old are you?" asked Pippin, his eyes wide. Harry then realised that this was the first time he had ever alluded to a particular age while with the Fellowship.

"Old enough to remember a time before Hobbits were around." said Harry jokingly, causing Pippin's eyes to widen in despair. Harry chuckled to himself, before continuing. "I remember a time before the Elves first journeyed here from the West."

The four hobbits all stared at him in shock, because to them Elves were beings that had existed in Middle-Earth for such an incomprehensible amount of time, that the thought of a time before them was daunting. Harry offered them a small smile, before turning his attentions to the returning solemn looking men.

"I was promised that you would tell me tales of the High Lord? I am sure that some of the will be amusing enough to cheer us up perhaps?" said Harry, directing his statement to the two men, but it was loud enough to awaken the sleeping Gimli, and to draw Legolas' attention.

"My father has spoke to me of the Land to the North." murmured Borormir. "He said that those who resided there were cowardly. Having refused to give us aid in the during Sauron's Defeat."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the opinion, but could see where the Steward had developed such an opinion. He could tell that Boromir didn't share the opinion though.

"We could not." replied Harry. "We were, and still are, preparing for our own battles against beings that in some ways are more malevolent than whatever Sauron can throw at us."

"Rohan has some interesting tales." announced Aragorn. "During one of my visits there, they speak of your Lord, as if he is welcome. The Master of Death visiting you is a sure sign that you are dead, and is meant to provide a calm to men who journey to battle. To know that they are prepared for what is on the otherside."

"That is a new one." said Harry. "I do not understand how he could journey the many leagues south in order to do that at every battle, for each individual man slain, but each to his own. Hm?"

"You seem to be very amused by this." pointed out Frodo, as he walked towards where Harry lent against the tree.

"Stories of our people, and its inhabitants amuse me. Just as I imagine tales of the Elves." He nodded to Legolas. "Dwarves." He gave a pointed look to half-asleep Gimli. "Or even those of Numenor would amuse them." The last comment was directed towards Aragorn. "These tales of the High Lord, the supposed Master of Death, have little truth to them. He is a man. Nothing more, nothing less. A man who has a wife, and several children. Lots of children, considering how old he is. He enjoys flying on Hippogriff's, and skirting around his duties as High Lord and a member of the Council. I fail to see how a man with so many faults, could also be the feared and revered legend that is within so many lands in Middle-Earth."

"Is he really like that?" asked Pippin, his eyes wide.

"Yes." said Harry, before leaning forward toward Pippin. "He also has a great fondness for cheese for some reason…"

Pippin laughed loudly, and Harry noted that the other members of the Fellowship were smiled as well. This meant that his job was done, in cheering them up.

* * *

Harry stood beside the river, staring into its depths, but not really seeing the water. They had some time before the true battle began. Some, but not a lot. His eyes were drawn to where the Fellowship was assembling, where the Elves were loading boats with supplies for them. Harry approached, and watched as Elves attached elven cloaks to each of their persons.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." announced Celeborn, from where he and Galadriel were to see them off.

As the other members of the Fellowship began to get into the boats, Celeborn led Harry and Aragorn to one side.

"Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin. Nor will you find safety on the western bank. Strange creatures bearing the mark of the White Hand have been seen on our borders." He looked each of them in the eyes, before continuing. "Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet these have done so!"

Harry nodded his head, understanding the message.

"These are the creatures that Gandalf warned us about then." answered Harry to the unvoiced question. "Orc and Goblin hybrids. Uruk-Hai. I imagine that they would be more ferocious in battle than regular orcs."

Celeborn nodded his head, and gave Aragorn an elvish blade.

"_You are being followed." _announced Celeborn in Elvish, before taking a step back, directing them towards the boats. "By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Falls of Rauros."

They climbed into the boats, Harry joining Legolas and Gimli, as the Elf's light weighted form and his own made up for Gimli's heavier weight. Harry used the paddle, while Legolas was at the front of the boat, keeping watch on the river ahead. Harry chanced to look around at the other members of the Fellowship, as they left the woods. They each seemed to be lost in their own memories, no doubt of the gifts that were bestowed upon them by Galadriel. His old friend had gifted him a small dagger, that was fitted to an arm guard that she put on his right forearm. The armguard fitted perfectly over his wand holster, the holster that held his holly wand.

Harry continued to propel the boat forward, listening to the conversation of the hobbits in the other two boats, while aware of Boromir, Legolas and Aragorn focusing on what was following them. It appeared as though Gollum had some talent in tracking, but his intuition told him that it would be better if the creature was left alone.

They camped on a small island within the river, where the hobbits set about making food, as everyone rested as night fell. Harry could see Aragorn and Boromir watching Gollum's approach with caution. He also noted that Frodo was paying a keen interest in what was being said.

"Leave Gollum. He wouldn't get us caught. It wouldn't be in his interest." stated Harry resolutely, from where he appeared behind the two men, causing them to startle slightly.

"His interest?" questioned Boromir, his eyes narrowing.

"He knows that Frodo is too well-guarded to go for the Ring himself, and he knows that alerting the enemy to our presence would defeat the object of him regaining the ring. He will settle to wait for a better opportunity." replied Harry, his eyes drifting over the camp to where the other members of the Fellowship were.

"You think there would be such an opportunity?" asked Aragorn quietly, to make sure that his voice didn't carry.

"I am no Gandalf, though whether that is a good thing or not is another matter. But I cannot make such an assumption, because I doubt its accuracy." responded Harry thoughtfully, before walking back towards the campsite.

* * *

_Harry reappeared outside the door of the receiving room, and painting a welcoming smile on his face, he entered the room. Two guards stood on either side of the door, and bowed as Harry entered the room. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but instead they drifted to the stranger who was stood before the roaring fire. The man had an ageless figure and face, and one glance at his ears proved that this was no elf. The man was handsome, and had a charismatic and friendly aura about him, that it reminded Harry of some kind of mesh between Neville and Draco. It was also a man that Harry had met in passing while travelling the Lands of Middle-Earth, some three hundred years ago. _

"_Annatar." called Harry in welcoming, as he stepped even further into the room. "What a surprise. How did you find me?"_

"_Well." came the response, as the man turned around to face him fully, a small smile on his face. "It wasn't hard to track you down. I knew that you had come from the North, so I came to find you. To discover that you were the High Lord, well that was a surprise."_

"_Ah, yes. That isn't something that I would want you spreading around though." pointed out Harry with a grimace, gesturing for the man to sit on the chair opposite Harry. "It is something that I enjoy, walking amongst those in Middle-Earth, who have no knowledge of my title. To act like me, without the responsibilities that come with being me. I make sure that I do it every few hundred years. So what made you travel all this way?"_

"_I need you help." Was the quick response, causing Harry to frown. _

"_With what?" asked Harry haltingly._

"_Well, you know that I can do magic." To demonstrate, a small ball of magic appeared in Annatar's hand. "And, I know you can too. However, I am having some difficulties with a project of mine, and I was wondering if you could help me with it."_

"_The two kinds of magic that we have do not mix together well. It can cause destructive results."_

"_I am aware of this."_

_Harry frowned, before brushing a hand through his hair. With a wave of his other hand, he summoned two glasses and a container filled with some kind of spirit. As he filled the two glasses, he spoke. _

"_What kind of project?"_

_

* * *

_

The sight of the Argonath the next day was a pleasant one. Their shapes were to act as a warning to those approaching of the lands that they were about to enter. Thousands of years later, these lands were still being protected by the people that the Argonath represented. It created a nostalgic feeling in Harry, as he could still remember when the Argonath was constructed. Soon, the reached a bank, just as the river met the falls. Here, they unpacked, and prepared camp.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." announced Aragorn, just as Harry appeared at the camp with wood.

"Oh, yes?! It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" drawled Gimli, ignoring Pippin's alarmed look. "Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!"

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." replied Aragorn, before leaving the dwarf grumbling to himself and Pippin.

Harry chuckled to himself as he listened to Gimli's rant to Pippin, while absently noting the whispered conversation between Legolas and Aragorn. It was only when Merry returned that he noticed that something was amiss.

"Where is Frodo?"

It was like a punch in the gut. He didn't even have to turn around to look at Boromir's area to know that the Gondorian wasn't there. That he was most likely with Frodo, with easy access to the Ring. Harry had known, all this time, that Borormir would be the Rings greatest ally within the group. But he has dismissed it as he became friendlier with the man, and now he was paying for it dearly. Already, now that he took note of it, his senses could pick up the dark atmosphere that came with the Ring's presence, as it fed off of Borormir's desires.

Before the others had really begun to put together Boromir and Frodo's disappearances, Harry had run into the woods, leaping over fallen trees. He ran so quickly, that the cries of the other members of the Fellowship were absent to him. He knew that Aragorn had also entered the woods, but the man would not be able to keep up with him, no matter his training.

He reached the ruins where he sensed the Ring's power well before Aragorn did. He could sense Frodo's presence, and knew he was using the Ring.

"Come out Frodo, before he finds you." called Harry, his eyes searching the area. Frodo appeared on the floor seconds later, after falling to the ground. Harry quickly helped him up, and Frodo jumped back the second he was on his feet. "You can trust me. I know what Boromir tried to do." Harry held his hands up as a sign of surrender.

"It took Boromir…" murmured Frodo, focusing his gaze on Harry. "Why would it not take you too?"

Harry sighed softly, before taking a small step forward.

"Just as Gandalf has refused to take the ring, and as I know Galadriel has tested herself against it, I cannot have the ring. Simply because, those of great power, would do such great evil with it. So, as with them, I am able to stop myself from succumbing to the rings influence." Here, Harry sighed, before squatting down so he was at the hobbits height. "There was a boy once, a boy of just seventeen. Not even your age. Like yourself, he had a great task upon his shoulders. A task, that if he did not accomplish, then no other would. That if he did not complete, then the entire world would be turned into chaos, and many of the boys friends would be killed simply because of the blood they carried or their beliefs. At the age of seventeen, the boy started to fight back. But, by fighting back he went at it alone. He knew, that in order to succeed, he would have to stop hiding behind everyone else, and face up to what he had to do. That in order to win he had to make sacrifices. I am sure you can empathise with this boy. You positions are not so different, no?"

Frodo was quiet for a few seconds, before speaking once more.

"What happened to this boy?" asked Frodo in a whisper.

"He survived. His task was to kill a man. A monster. He succeeded to. Everyone praised him for being a hero, but in the meantime, he earned himself a title and unwanted power that just made him that bit more unusual. He became known as the 'Master of Death'."

Frodo's eyes widened, as he stared at Harry in shock.

"Yes, you and the High Lord are not so different. Don't look so shocked. Over time I have noticed that there is a weakness in every society, in which they put all of their hopes on one individual. I am sorry to say Frodo, that that individual fails more often than not. But I have hope in you yet, Frodo Baggins. That I do."

Frodo smiled at him, and then Aragorn suddenly game running around the corner.

"Frodo." called Aragorn, his face worried.

Frodo took a step away from Aragorn, but closer to Harry, who put a hand on the hobbits shoulder.

"Can you protect me from yourself?" demanded Frodo, watching the ranger wearily, before holding the Ring out in the palm of his hand. Harry watched the ranger's reactions with interest, ready to move at the slightest possibility of the ranger going for the ring. "Would you destroy it?"

Harry could feel the Ring called out to Aragorn, no doubt to the blood that flowed through his veins, the blood that had been such a faithful ally to the Ring before. Aragorn's eyes were focused upon the Ring, as he reached out for it, and just as Harry was about to move to stop the ranger, Aragorn's hand closed Frodo's hand around the Ring.

"I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor." said Aragorn solemnly.

"I know. Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand." replied Frodo, his tone one of acceptance.

Suddenly, all the hairs on Harry's neck stood on edge, and he drew his sword immediately. In reaction to Harry's movement, Frodo copied him. It was then that they noticed the sword was blue.

"Run Frodo!" ordered Aragorn, as he ran down the steps.

"Go." urged Harry, watching Frodo as he appeared to be mulling over something.

"You were the boy in the story, weren't you?" questioned Frodo. "You are he? The High Lord?"

"We don't have time for this. Go." shouted Harry, before nodding his head just before Frodo's turned away, seeing Frodo acknowledge the new information. He watched Frodo disappear into the trees, hearing the sound of fighting behind him.

Harry leapt back towards where he knew Aragorn was. He swiftly decapitated one of the Uruk-Hai. But the sheer numbers of the enemy pushed them back. Many of them got past the duo, going towards the camp, and where the near-defenseless hobbits were.

The two moved around the area, bringing down the enemy efficiently. Harry killed two Uruk's with one slash of his sword, and noticed Legolas and Gimli joining them. The four of them continued to bring down the enemy, but they knew that it wasn't enough. Each of them hopes that the hobbits were hiding somewhere in the woods.

This continued, as blood coated their weapons, and their muscles began to strain. But, the piercing sound of a horn blast echoing through the woods gave them pause.

"The Horn of Gondor." announced Legolas.

"Boromir." stated Aragorn, before they began to run through the woods.

As they ran towards the horn, killing Uruk-Hai as they went, they each accepted that there was a chance that they might not make it. Eventually, Boromir appeared in sight, accept it was a sight that none of them wanted to see. He was on his knees, with three arrows sticking out of him. Uruk-Hai continued to run past him, moving onto something else. A quick cursory glance of the area proved to Harry that it seemed as though Boromir were protecting something, but whatever it was had disappeared by now. One of the Uruk-Hai stood over Boromir readying his bow for the killing strike.

It occurred to Harry, in those few seconds, that he never really appreciated the gift that those who lived in Aurum could bestow upon the world. He knew that with the speed the others were travelling at, they wouldn't make it in time. So, Harry pushed his magic into his muscles. He knew that he would feeling the strain later, and regret doing this. But he knew it was for the best. Just as the arrow left the string, Harry appeared in front of Boromir. The arrow went straight through Harry's heart, and the force of it at such close quarters knocked him back, causing him to hit Boromir before rolling off to the side. Before the Uruk-Hai had a chance to continue, Aragorn crashed into the creature, thus starting a fight with it. Harry distantly noticed that the others were fighting other Uruk's. Harry merely concentrated on breathing in slowly, ignoring that any other person would have died by now, and that the others probably assumed that he was dead. He merely focused on the breathing, and ignored how painful this was, and how he had been through worse. Which was a sad thought, because how could someone have experienced something more painful than having an arrow through the heart, and still be alive.

He registered the sound of fighting stop all around him, and knew it was now safe for the others to notice he was alive. He focused his energy on moving, and listening to the conversation between the two men, in order to see when Boromir was about to pass.

"They took the little ones." whimpered Boromir.

"Be still." ordered Aragorn, who was no doubt trying to heal such wounds. Wounds that could not be healed through non-magical means.

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?" questioned Boromir, his tone pleading.

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him." murmured Boromir, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The Ring is beyond our reach now."

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all." said Boromir, ashamed.

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honour." responded Aragorn.

"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness… and my city to ruin." Harry assumed that Aragorn had tried to remove the arrows.

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall…nor our people fail!"

"Our people? Our people." whispered Borormir, his tone wistful. "I would have followed you my Brother…my Captain…My King!"

There was silence, and Harry took that as the time to move. He did so, ignoring the shocked look on Aragorn's face.

"Has he passed?" questioned Harry, standing up and moving towards Boromir quickly, ignoring the pain the movement caused, and the wide eyed look on Aragorn's face when he saw the arrow through Harry's chest.

"Yes."

"Move." said Harry, as he knelt down and tossed his satchel to Aragorn. "There should be an wooden box in there, take it out. I will need it." Harry then began to remove the arrows, and took the box that was handed to him from Aragorn.

"What are you doing?"

"I am going to bring him back. In Aurum, we can bring people back. It is all the matter of getting the heart beating. But first, I need to heal his injuries."

He took out several potions, and poured them into the wounds, which cauterised them, causing them to scar immediately. Then, Harry sighed, and took the wand out of his left holster. The Elder Wand. He need the more powerful wand of the two to guarantee that this would work. Placing the wand tip on Boromir's chest, he silently cast the spell. Immediately, two things happened. Oxygen poured into Boromir's system, and a electrical current hit his heart, causing it to start beating again.

Harry lifted his eyes to face Aragorn, with Legolas and Gimli by his side, who were staring at him in shock as the sounds of Boromir's breathing echoed throughout the clearing.

Soon, the man opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Harry, who still had an arrow through his chest.

"I must be dead." Was the man's statement, as he stared at Harry wide-eyed.

"I hope not, otherwise I did a pour job of healing you." replied Harry, stretching his aching muscles, and wincing the pain around where the arrow was increased dramatically.

"But you have an arrow speared through your chest." answered Boromir confused.

"I think I noticed. You need to drink this, you lost a lot of blood." said Harry dismissively handing a vial to Boromir. "I need one of you to remove the arrow. If I do it, it will splinter, which make it that much more painful over the next few days because I will have to remove the splinters myself. Making the whole thing much more bloody."

Legolas offered, and Harry relaxed his muscles as the elf removed the arrow cleanly. The pain was gone almost immediately, and Harry rolled his shoulders as he felt his muscles already beginning to heal, and a thin layer of skin over the wound already.

"I thought I was dead." said a confused Boromir, as he stood up with ease, not feeling the slightest bit strained, as his injuries had been healed.

"You were, for about thirty seconds." replied Harry. "But I thought that after making such a mistake, you deserved to redeem yourself. Look as this as my way of letting you do as such."

"If we hurry now, we can reach Frodo and Sam." said Legolas, making a movement to go and follow the two hobbits. When neither of the men moved, he paused. "You mean not to follow them?"

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." said Aragorn with a tone of finality.

"Then it has all been in vain! The Fellowship has failed." announced Gimli mournfully.

"Not if we hold true to each other. For then, the Fellowship will continue." stated Aragorn.

"We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let us hunt some Orc!" continued Boromir, as he sheathed and cleaned his sword. Harry mimicked him. Even as the others followed Aragorn as they left, following the Uruk-Hai, Harry looked towards the Eastern Shore, where Frodo and Sam would be.

"I am so sorry Frodo." murmured Harry. "I have passed this burden to you, and for that I don't think I can ever truly apologise. Good luck my friend. Stay strong."

With that, he followed the remaining members of the Fellowship.

* * *

"_You want to imbue metals with magic?" questioned Harry, his tone interested. "Why?"_

"_As gifts." replied Annatar. "Not all races are able to channel magic so easily as you and I, do you not believe it is fair to be on equal footing with everyone?"_

"_Perhaps." replied Harry. "But some metals react differently with different types of magic. Some metals store and channel some magic better than others."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Well, I think the two best stores for magic are gold and mithril. They both store and channel magic incredibly well. They are also able to feed off of the magic stored within as a self-protection mechanism. These types of metals are only suited to powerful enchantments and other such things. Anything less would be a mockery." lectured Harry, his thoughts whirring. "As gifts though, depending on the type of magic each ring carries, will have an effect on the metal of the rings. For example, if you wished to put an enchantment onto the rings to make someone more courageous and daring, I would use gold, or some of the purer mithril samples. Or if it was an enchantment to make the wearer happier, and more inclined to listen to advice, which you and I know that the men of the world are in need of, then silver or regular mithril should be used. The elves are helping you with this project?"_

"_Yes they are, I got the inspiration because I hear the elves are planning to create three for themselves, and I thought I should lend a hand throughout the entire process." replied Annatar, a small smile on his lips. "What if, a singular ring were to be made? What kind of metal should be used then?"_

"_What kind of properties would it have to have?"_

"_For it to be highly durable, and able to store an immense amount of power, and be able to channel it as well. I understand that at times, I can put people off due to my aura. Just like yourself. I wish to make one for myself, so that I can store my power away to make others at ease, so that relations between others and I can go that much faster. It also means that I have easier access to my power."  
_

_Harry's expression turned thoughtful, as he stood up and walked towards the door. _

"_Come with me, I shall show you to the library. There are books there that I think you should read, because the ore that I think you will be needing is extremely rare to find. I know of no dwarf that has it, and we have only found small spots of our land that carries it."_

_The two of them walked down the halls, entering the expansive private library that Harry had collected over his life. The walls were lined with so many books, that it was astounding that they all managed to fit into the room. _

"_You wouldn't think I was such a reader, now would you? I am not exactly the most intelligent of people." said Harry with a grin as he walked towards a certain section, bypassing a part of the bookcases that was full of leather-bound books which were darkly coloured and stained in places._

"_Those books look to be in bad condition. Could you not tread them better?"_

"_It was their former owners who treated them as such, after all what more can you expect of owners who revered the contents of those books." replied Harry absently, before grabbing a book of one of the shelves, and opening it on a table between the two men. "I believe that you should be after the rare ore, of gold mythril. Most mythril is of a silvery colour, and although this type of mythril is not normally stronger, it has a slightly different property. It absorbed the properties of the environment it is in, so only the exact same properties could reverse the process of forming the metal."_

"_So, should it be melted down in an environment that was hard to get to, it would only be in that exact same place that the process could be reversed?"_

"_Something like that, yes. It is quite an intriguing property, we had to stop Hermione from testing on the ore because she would have drained our ore sources dry. But this is the best solution, it would be impossible to destroy unless it was melted down in the place it was initially forged, and due to its being mithril, it should be able to be used for the purposes you want it for."_

"_Yes, I believe this would be suitable." came Annatar's response, a distant look in his eyes as he eyes the other books around him. Harry made a non-commital notice, leafing through the book out of interest. So he missed it when Annatar's eyes focused on the leather bound books which contained content that was of a dark nature. A maniacal grin appeared on Annatar's face, but it was wiped off when the door was opened. _

"_Father." called the woman that walked into the room, glancing around the room to spot the man. The woman was tall and thin, reaching a height a little less than her father. She had red hair, so red that would remind any man of a burning fire. Her eyes were a warm chocolate brown, which warmed at the sight of her father. "The others want you in the council room." She shot Annatar a welcoming smile. "So this is the mysterious friend that you made on your travels hm?"_

"_Yes. Leave him be, he has a project to finish." replied Harry, before looking at Annatar. "Annatar, meet Lily, my eldest daughter. Lily, meet Annatar. He's here for some advice on metal ores and magic."_

"_That's interesting." Was Lily's dull response, her expression then smoothened out. "You coming?"_

"_Sure, I think we are finished here." said Harry, ushering the other two out of the room. As Harry turned to close the door, he missed the shared look between Annatar and Lily. _

_In fact, over the years it seemed as though Harry missed a lot through this one eventful meeting. A meeting between what was an old friend and himself, one that showed that the years in solitude had made them complacent. Made them miss the signs, made them more welcoming and less paranoid. The centuries and millennia that followed this conversation would forever be ingrained in Harry's head. Not only because of the conversations content, but because a month after the conversation, the books that Harry had pointed out in the library had all mysteriously vanished. _

_Books that had a detailed description how to go about creating the First Horcrux, how to bind others to themselves such as the Dark Lord Voldemort did with the Dark Mark, and other areas of Dark Magic. _

_When the Dark Lord Sauron unveiled the rings of power, and the full force of their power was demonstrated to everyone, it was Harry who understood where this power had originated from. That the name 'Sauron the Deceiver' was not merely applied to those in Middle-Earth. That the term when applied to Harry himself referred to what was probably Sauron's biggest achievement, deceiving the great and powerful High Lord of Aurum and the Master of Death. It was also one of Harry's biggest regrets and something he was ashamed of. Second only to one other incident. _

_Harry had never thought that he would sympathise with Horace Slughorn for what he told Tom Riddle, but after he truly realised the crime he had committed against humanity that day almost six thousand years ago, he knew that his old Potions Master would have company wherever he was now, once Harry did hopefully join him. After all, there has to be a special place reserved for people like them. Each time he put any thought into the crime he had committed, he a sharp pain filled his chest, at the thought of the millions of lives that had suffered due to his choices and mistakes. For all the power that he had, he did not deserve it. This realisation, was like an arrow through the heart. _

_

* * *

_

**Note: **To those who didn't realise, Annatar and Sauron are one and the same. It is a name Sauron went by to gain peoples trust, then he later deceived them. Hence 'Sauron the Deceiver'.

Hey everyone! This is chapter four, and I hope you all enjoyed it. :) I am so sorry for the long wait, but life has been hectic. Read the A/N at the top of this page for more information. I am not just trying to blow anyone off for the usual 'RL has been important etc' but I really mean it.

Although I have only been around for eighteen years, I doubt that I will ever have to go through anything this bad for the rest of my life. Or rather, I hope not. It's taken my a while to get my head together, and if anyone wants to have any more information, or offer me condolences, then please be my guest. It will probably cheer me up and make me write more etc.

Just so you all know, this is the first of the stories to be updated. The others should be soon. I get my exam results on 20/08/09, so I will be updating a fair bit until them due to nerves etc etc. This is the hope though, no promises.

Until then, I hope you have all enjoyed my ramblings, and look forward to the future chapters, which I can promise you, will be VERY interesting ;)

Please review, it will cheer me up etc.

**Love Morrigu-chan x**


End file.
